Blood Relations
by dHALL
Summary: Charlie learns all about Kevlar first hand. Don uses anger to mask his fears while Charlie faces his. And a quest for retribution may end Charlie's life before they get the chance to make amends. Completed.Revised slighly and errors corrected Sept'06
1. Unforeseen Developments

_**Revised September 3rd 2006.**_

_**This was my first ever attempt at fiction and according to all of your generous comments and feedback I have been led to believe it was well received. I have corrected my spelling and grammatical errors and altered a few words and phrases. I also followed a few suggestions for some minor alterations to the ending. **_

_**I hope you truly enjoyed it the first time and will take the time to read it again.**_

_**I intend to leave my original Authors Notes in place.**_

_**Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to leave comments and feedback!**_

_**dHALL**_

………………………………****

**22,000 pounds of smuggled narcotics**

**200 million US dollars**

**18 arrests**

**4 body bags**

**1 ruthless drug lord **

**Blood Relations**

**By**

**dHALL**

Rated PG-13

For language and violence

The man stared at the black SUV where it sat, alone, next to the dumpster. His box had been shoved further into the corner of the alley to make room for the four-door behemoth. He approached the back of the vehicle with reserved caution, but a bold inquisitiveness that comes from years on the street. This was his home. His things were here. How dare they?

But his territorial instinct was quelled by the shear oddity of what now sat in his personal space. It was obvious that they didn't belong here and that fact alone made them more dangerous than what he was used to running into on these streets at night.

He dared to continue his approach. He could see four shadows moving through the tinted glass. No, only three. The muted shine on the SUV's hubcaps grabbed his attention as a reflected motion behind him caught his eye. He turned quickly, ready to face whatever sudden threat had snuck up so quietly behind him.

Even in the almost absolute darkness he could see her standing there. The woman had approached him from the eastern entrance to the alleyway. How did he miss her? The narrow passage between the buildings was hardly wide enough for his thin frame. He must have brushed right by her in his hurry to get back to his spot behind the dumpster. He rebuked himself for his careless behavior as the woman continued her advance.

She surveyed the old man with a meandering curiosity that somehow eased his sudden fear of the danger she represented. Her eyes moved over him and he felt her assessment of the threat he presented as well. Their eyes met and he was forced to look away from her steady glare. This woman was standing alone – but there was no fear in her eyes. His gaze fell to her hands as she adjusted her stance to move further to his right. The semi-automatic weapon she held tight in her fist brought his receding fear back at full force.

She spoke.

"You're gonna need to find someplace else to sleep tonight pops….you don't wanna be anywhere near here right now."

There was no admonishment in her voice, just truth. He looked into her eyes once more and he could see the conviction behind her words. This wasn't someone he wanted to ignore. He moved to retreat back into his narrow passageway. When she stepped further into the light he could see the thick vest she was wearing and the large yellow letters that spoke volumes: FBI.

He turned and ran.

**Chapter One: Unforeseen Developments**

Special Agent Don Eppes grabbed his brother by the back of the head and shoved him face first into the floor of the SUV. Charlie tried to sit back up but his brother's stern voice kept him where he was.

"Charlie, stay down!"

His voice was low, but his tone was all Charlie needed to understand what was going on. Don drew his weapon, but kept it low.

The two agents in the front seats of the SUV pulled their sidearms so slowly an unaware observer would never have noticed the motion.

Charlie slid the rest of his body off the seat and into the floor of the vehicle. Don grabbed the kevlar vest he had been in the process of putting on and shoved it over Charlie where he was crouched in the floor.

"Don't move Charlie."

As if he needed to be told again. He wasn't about to move from his position.

Agent David Sinclair glanced in the review mirror to get a look at his boss.

He could see Don's eyes were wide with a fear that he had only seen once before.

Charlie.

He wasn't supposed to be in the field. But he had wanted to get a look at the buildings.

"_Observation is a functional variable to add if you want to narrow this list down. Come on, Don. We need to know for sure. I need to see the area."_

Charlie had convinced Don to drive them out here.

Just to look.

Just to observe.

And from the looks of things, they were about to go more than a few steps beyond simple observation.

Don met his eyes in the mirror.

"David, what've you got?"

"Nothing, I can't see anything from this side."

"Granger!"

Don barked at the other occupant of the vehicle.

"What do you see?"

Agent Colby Granger turned his eyes to the side view mirror.

"Single male boss. Moving slow. Appears to be alone. Coming up the passenger side."

Don cursed under his breath. Charlie was on the passenger side. He grabbed Charlie by the shirt collar and started pulling him across the floor to the other side of the SUV.

"Wait a minute."

Colby put his hand up to his right ear listening.

"We're clear."

Agent Megan Reeves' unmistakable voice came through his earpiece.

Don released Charlie from his grip when Agent Reeves opened the door and looked in at the occupants.

"We're clear Don. It was just a homeless guy. Looks like we moved his current accommodations."

She nodded at the collapsing box that had been shoved up against the side of the building when they had parked the SUV. She couldn't help but smile at the collective sigh of relief from the three agents inside the vehicle.

She glanced at Charlie. He looked a little paler than usual and was still crouched in the floor of the SUV with Don's kevlar vest covering most of his head and shoulders but he had recovered his notebook and was now furiously scribbling numbers and equations and things that she couldn't hope to interpret or clearly understand.

"Have you seen enough now?" Don was ready to get out of here.

To get Charlie out of here.

The young mathematician sat up slowly, still writing.

"Yeah, I got what I needed. And you've got your answer."

Charlie tossed his notebook into Don's lap.

"What?"

Don studied the scribbles that he had come to associate with Charlie's handwriting. Any hope of interpretation was lost.

"Charlie, what the hell does this mean?"

Don looked over at his brother's eager face.

"It's a simple probability algorithm. And if you combine a Bayesian approach to the….."

Don cut him off.

"OK, Charlie. But what does it tell us?"

"Well, if my calculations are correct, and they are, then this is definitely the place. The filter narrowed us down to this and one other location…but this is the most likely starting point and by adding these new variables and running it through again, I think I can tell you the exact date of the next shipment. I just need a few more minutes."

"New variables? Charlie…."

Don glanced at Megan, Colby and David in turn. They were watching the area around them with eagle eyes, only glancing at Charlie as he spoke. After the homeless guy thing, Don was feeling very apprehensive about keeping Charlie out here for much longer and apparently so were they.

Charlie didn't belong in the field. There was just to much risk. Why had he brought him out here……he couldn't even remember what he'd been thinking. He almost lost him once because Charlie needed to see the location. He stood out there in the crosshairs and barely missed taking a bullet. The whole scene played itself through his mind as it had hundreds of times before. He could see Charlie standing there, a perfect target. If David had been two seconds slower……….

"Don – are you listening to me?"

Charlie's agitated tone brought him back to the present.

"It's logically justifiable to assume these finding are correct. It's a subjectivistic approach, but I think the figures speak for themselves. Don?"

Don shook his head to clear it.

"So you're saying this is the place?"

"The number of routes to the street, proximity to bus stops, rails and airports…...all those factors bring us back to here. It's the central hub in this pattern Don and once you add these other variables………..this is your distribution center."

Charlie leaned back in his seat and smiled at his brother's puzzled expression.

"You said you can guess exact dates for delivery?"

Despite his apprehension of remaining in their current location, Don couldn't help but reiterate Charlie's statement. The brass was unhappy and he was feeling the pressure from it.

In the past month over one hundred of L.A.'s young people had overdosed on a powerful new form of GHB called Blue Nitro. The DEA had come up empty handed and the FBI could not get a conventional solid lead on where district dealers were getting their hands on it. But the new street drug was beyond potent and they had to figure out where this stuff was coming from and how it was being distributed so quickly and efficiently. And they had to find out fast. _That_ was the reason he drove Charlie out here. He was willing to try any approach in hopes of getting even a decent guess as to where this stuff was being delivered. He hadn't hoped to figure out when the delivery might take place and he certainly didn't expect the next thing that came out of Charlie's mouth.

"Not a guess, Don. It's a precise calculated estimate. But, um…..Don? It's today."

Charlie's volume increased when he realized the implications of his newest results.

"The pattern indicates an eighty-nine percent probability that they would use this date for their next delivery."

Megan stuck her head in the open door of the SUV. "Hey Don? I think he's right."

Don rose from his seat and followed Megan's line of sight. The alley emptied into a small parking lot, where a system of warehouses lined the back street. He could see several cars moving into the lot and a small group of people were entering the warehouse via a loading dock in the back of the center building.

"Don. They're moving it right now."

"Call for back-up. We have to move….now."

Don started barking orders to his team and hurried around to back of the SUV.

Charlie got to his feet and looked past his brother toward the warehouse. The numbers started flying through Charlie's head.

Four Agents. Over a dozen men could be seen around the loading dock behind the warehouse. Surely there were more already in the building. Assuming they were all armed, the agents were outnumbered by at least ten people. Fourteen guns against four. Statistically their chances weren't good and the odds weren't going to get any better if they didn't wait for back-up.

Charlie followed Don around the SUV and stood next to the now open trunk. Megan heard him mumbling about probability, statistics and theoretical scenarios. She didn't need an equation to tell her that this was going to get messy. But they couldn't just walk away and hope to catch them later. This had to stop here. This shipment couldn't get out on the streets and all four agents knew it.

"Port Authority is the closest. They're on their way. Our assault team is ten minutes out."

Colby reached around Charlie to grab his tactical equipment bag from the back of the vehicle.

"We just have to keep them pinned."

Don looked up at his team. They had to move fast if they were going to keep this situation under control. This many dealers in one location was unheard of and the prospect of taking out the supplier was hard to believe. With some luck, this could easily be the biggest drug bust in L.A. history. Assuming Charlie's numbers were correct.

DAMN. He had almost forgotten about Charlie.

Don looked over at his younger brother. Charlie had left the rear of the truck and had followed Megan to the hood. He had turned a shade paler and was using his hands to talk. Don could hear him giving Megan an unwanted lesson in the theories of statistical analysis; spouting off facts about drug dealers, gunfights and non-violent arrests. Megan was checking the loads in her spare clips and doing her best not to provoke his obvious trepidation with what was about to go down.

Don grabbed another vest from the truck and walked over to his brother. When he slung the kevlar over his brother's head, Charlie stopped talking. He looked up at Don like he was seeing him for the first time.

"I guess you're not used to this part huh?"

Don tightened the straps of the vest around his younger brother. Charlie stood in silence staring at him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Don led Charlie back to the open door of the SUV.

"I'm gonna need you to stay here, ok? Keep that vest on and keep those doors locked. Do not leave this truck unless it's on fire, do you understand?"

Charlie shifted his shoulders and readjusted the large kevlar vest around his slight frame.

"These things aren't very comfortable, are they?"

Don dug a stick of gum from his pocket and grinned at his brother. "Comfort isn't exactly the idea, Charlie."

He didn't miss the shadow of concern that passed across his younger sibling's face.

"This is my job, Buddy. I've got to go do my job."

"Yeah, I know."

Charlie sat down in the SUV and Don reached across his middle and fastened the seat belt across Charlie's lap.

"Stay put then."

"Right. Not moving."

He shut the door on his little brother and walked over to his team.

"Let's go do this."

………………………………

………………………………


	2. Unacceptable Dividends

**Chapter Two: Unacceptable Dividends**

Charlie watched his brother walk away from the truck and around the dumpster. He could see Don running in a low crouch across the open parking lot toward the warehouse. Then he was out of sight. From inside the truck, the dumpster now blocked Charlie's view of the loading dock on the side of the building. Charlie undid his seatbelt and climbed up into the driver's seat of the SUV. He turned the key in the ignition and rolled his window down about two inches. He still couldn't see the loading dock, but he needed to hear. Charlie leaned forward to rest his head against the steering wheel and let the feeling of absolute helplessness wash over him.

He didn't have to wait long for the sounds he was anticipating. The burst of automatic gunfire brought Charlie's head back up. He strained to see any movement from what he could see of the warehouse. Nothing. He could hear yelling from across the parking lot. Even from a distance, Charlie could recognize his brother's voice.

"**FBI**, DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"

Charlie grimaced as Don's request was met by another volley of gunfire. He flipped the locks and reached for the door handle.

_NO. Don told you to stay put._

His part of this case was over; the least he could do was obey his brother's orders.

………………………………

Don squatted down behind the small cluster of crates. His team had been exchanging gunfire with the crew inside the warehouse for what felt like an eternity.

_Where in the hell is our back-up!_

Don slung his weapon around the crates and fired off a few blind shots. The return fire ripped through the wooden crates directly in front of Don's face and splinters dug into his cheek. He had gotten a good look at the weapons that were being used against them. They were Beretta PM12 S2 submachine guns with fully automatic capabilities. This was hardcore firepower. Whoever these guys were, they weren't your average drug runners. The sheer number of bullets that were released from those weapons kept his team confined to the outer side of the loading dock.

Don risked a look around to check on his people. He could see Agent Reeves pinned down behind a small truck that had been parked next to the warehouse, just to the left of his position. Another round of gunfire from the warehouse hit the truck and Don could see Megan trying to make herself disappear behind the rear tire. This operation must be huge if they had this kind of firepower lying around. Don had expected resistance, and his team was ready for a gunfight, but none of them were prepared for what came next.

He heard Colby shout.

"What the hell is that?"

The gunfire paused and Don bolted out from behind the crates heading for cover behind the loading dock.

"GET DOWN!"

He heard David's warning shout, immediately followed by what sounded like a missile firing. Don hit the ground pulling his arms over himself to protect his head. The projectile cut through the crates he had just abandoned and slammed into the pickup truck were Megan had been crouched.

………………………………

Charlie's anxiety was building. He couldn't sit here for much longer. He couldn't see anything from the SUV's position behind the dumpster.

_How long has it been? Didn't Colby say back-up was ten minutes out?_

Charlie tried to listen harder. He couldn't hear shouting anymore, but the sound of the gunfire exchange was a constant. He could barely distinguish the sound of one gun from the next.

Fighting off panic, Charlie tired to remember how many extra clips Agent Reeves had been checking. He had seen at least three for her .40 caliber handgun. That didn't include her back-up pistol. If each agent had three extra clips…The number of bullets per clip, clips per gun and guns per agent began the equation in his head. It grew more complex as Charlie started adding other variables to his theorem. The odds were getting slimmer even using optimistic figures. Charlie was so absorbed in his thought processes that he failed to notice the large black SWAT van pull up behind the SUV. A tap on the window startled him out of his mathematical stupor.

"Keep your hands where I can see them and step out of the vehicle!"

Charlie exited the SUV slowly, hands held high. Four very large men in SWAT vests stood around his door. A slightly older man stepped out from between the four assault rifles pointed at Charlie. He looked at the FBI issue vest Charlie was wearing.

"Are you with the team?"

Charlie nodded his head.

"Yeah…ah…..No…I'm, I'm just a consultant. They told me to wait here."

The man grabbed Charlie by the elbow and pulled him behind the SUV.

"Captain John McEntire, LAPD SWAT. Port Authority called us in. Where is Special Agent Eppes?"

An explosion shook the ground and Charlie heard the windows in the surrounding buildings shatter at the repercussion. A pillar of fire rose into view from the loading docks of the warehouse. Captain McEntire was barking out orders and the SWAT team started moving, no longer needing Charlie's answer as to the FBI team's location.

Charlie followed them to the mouth of the alleyway and he could see the burning frame of what was once a small pickup truck.

_Where is Don?_

Looking around the back of the warehouse, Charlie could see two more tactical teams moving in from either side of the building. At least Don and his team weren't alone out there. Back-up had arrived in full force.

………………………………

Fire and metal rained down on Don as he lifted his head from the concrete.

_What the hell just happened?_

His ears were ringing and he could feel the warm trickle of blood that ran down the side of his face. Don rolled over and looked at the remains of the truck behind him.

_Reeves_.

He strained to see any sign of the agent through the thick smoke. The heat from the fire was overwhelming.

_You have to move._ _Now_.

Don got to his knees and crawled forward, toward the loading dock. A short burly young man was standing at the end of the loading dock with a cylindrical object resting on his shoulder. He was going to fire another rocket. With one well aimed shot, Don took the launcher and it's operator out of commission.

………………………………

Agent Reeves felt the heat on her back. She tried to look around, but the scene swam in front of her eyes. As soon as she heard David's warning about the weapon – she knew she couldn't possibly get clear in time. She had started to run but found herself thrown to the ground when the small rocket propelled grenade hit the truck she had been using for cover. She tried moving but a searing pain across the back of her head kept her in place. Her vision blurred, but she could see several large figures stooped low to the ground running toward her at full speed. SWAT. Megan felt a strong hand grab her vest and begin to pull her across the parking lot.

………………………………

Charlie watched in shock as the scene played out in front of him. He couldn't tear his eyes away. The truck was burning and thick black smoke was pouring into the night sky. Rapid gunfire could be heard all around and Charlie could hear shouting again as the assault teams surrounded the warehouse. He hunkered down beside the dumpster and tried to remain small and inconspicuous. He just couldn't tear himself away from were he had planted his feet. Charlie had heard Don describe what it was like to be under heavy fire, but he never imagined anything like this.

Even as an observer, he was completely and utterly terrified.

Tactical assault teams had moved in from every angle. He started calculating agents, guns, bullets…….and suddenly the odds were a whole lot better. From his position, Charlie could see a figure moving fast toward the alley dragging something along with him. The speed of his approach startled Charlie and he quickly stood and took a few steps backward toward the black SUV.

Colby Granger entered the alley, pulling Megan's limp form behind him. Charlie heard him speak into his hands free radio system.

"I've got an agent down! We need an ambulance at the east entrance!"

Colby shot a glance at Charlie.

"Get behind the truck, Charlie. Stay with her."

He didn't wait for a response. Turning on his heel, Colby ran at full speed back toward the warehouse.

Agent Reeves felt a hand on her arm and looked up at the young man squatting next to her. The big brown eyes staring into hers were filled with concern.

"I'm okay, Charlie…Just had my legs knocked out from under me."

Charlie looked closely at the agent in front of him. He could see the blood clotting in her strawberry blond hair and the bruise on the side her face was already beginning to show. But she was coherent and her voice was strong.

"Well, what do we do now?"

Charlie had tried to mirror her vocal confidence, but she could hear the waver in his tone.

"We wait kiddo."

………………………………

Don saw the SWAT team streaming out of the alley where he had left Charlie sitting alone. Relief rushed through him. He looked around for his agents. He saw Colby grab Megan from where she fell behind the burning truck. He was using the cover fire from the approaching SWAT team to pull her back to the alley where their truck was parked.

David came up from his left giving Don a wide eyed look.

"Where did that thing come from?"

Don's ears were still ringing from the explosion. He wondered for a minute if he was going to have hearing damage when this was over.

The SWAT team filled up the empty space behind the two agents. The loading dock was serving as sufficient cover to get them close enough to enter the warehouse. Don looked over their heads to see Colby heading back toward them.

Raising his eyebrows at him, Don silently inquired as to the condition of Agent Reeves. Granger gave him a half smile and an affirmative nod that said what he needed to know.

"Ok, let's move in."

Multiple SWAT teams had joined the raid and they had the warehouse completely secured. The second FBI tactical assault squad had entered the lot from behind the building and had boxed the remaining deviants between the loading dock and SWAT.

………………………………

The three men knew they were boxed in. The back alley looked like the only open route to the street. They opened their sub-machine guns at the Feds and ran for the alleyway.

………………………………

The sounds of gunfire had diminished and Charlie could hear sirens approaching in the distance. He listened to Agent Reeves, breathing slow and evenly beside him. He squeezed her arm and pulled himself back to his feet. She gave him a reassuring smile and leaned her head back against the side of the black SUV and closed her eyes.

She could relax. It was over.

Charlie however, could not relax and he began to pace the alley.

The firefight had left him balanced on the outer rim of an all out panic attack and his concern for his brother's well being was about to get the best of him. A burst of machine gun fire and pounding footsteps brought Charlie's attention around to the mouth of the alley. Three men burst into the narrow passageway. Two still had their backs to him; their Uzi's spitting bullets back into the parking lot toward the loading docks. The third man looked up and saw the dark headed young man standing between him and freedom. For a single instant their eyes met and Charlie could see the look of shear desperation on the man's face as he swung his gun around.

"Don't."

The young professor's plea was answered by a stream of bullets.

………………………………


	3. Implausible Consequences

**Chapter Three: Implausible Consequences**

Charlie felt something slam into his chest. Several somethings. The air was forced out of his lungs by an immense pressure. Blinding, white hot pain shot through his body as the impact threw him backwards against the truck. He couldn't breath. He heard another shot – then another, followed by a steady volley of gunfire. The windows on the SUV shattered and he felt the tiny pieces of glass raining down on him. Charlie realized he was on the ground, but couldn't manage to lift his head. He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? Charlie tried to move, but an unseen force was holding him down. White spots starting dancing in front of his closed eyes.

_Oh it hurts. Oh God, it hurts too much to breathe._

………………………………

The sudden burst of gunfire brought Megan Reeves' senses back into focus. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw Charlie slam into the truck and slide to the ground next to her. She brought her pistol up and fired two shots at the man facing them. Her first shot hit him in the right shoulder. The second bullet caught him in the neck and he went down hard.

Two uniformed officers appeared from the other side of the SWAT van parked in the middle of the alley.

"LAPD, DON'T MOVE!"

The two men firing into the parking lot turned, and another volley of gunfire erupted from the fully-automatic weapons in their hands toward the SWAT van. One officer went down and the other dove for cover behind the SUV. Megan threw herself over Charlie's body as the glass above them shattered from the gunfire. She could feel him moving under her, struggling to lift himself up. She felt him shudder violently and then he was still.

The firing stopped and Megan lifted her head to see that four of LAPD's finest had moved in behind the suspects. The two men knew they didn't stand a chance. They had dropped their weapons and put their hands up in surrender.

………………………………

Inspecting the warehouse, Don was in awe at the size of this operation. After eighteen arrests and four body bags, they had managed to confiscate over fifty two hundred pounds of pure, uncut cocaine. There were crates filled with boxes of small blue pills that had been identified as ecstasy. There were bags of whole leaf marijuana, as well as numerous containers containing the liquid drug known as Blue Nitro. Those small vials filled with light blue liquid were what they were looking for. Everything else was just icing on the cake. That was to say nothing of the money. Twelve duffle-bags were recovered; each of them filled with sorted $100 bills. This was the source. Charlie had been right.

A sudden outbreak of gunfire from the parking lot brought Don, David and Colby out onto the loading dock.

"I thought this scene was secure."

The young officer at the end of the ramp looked up at the agent in charge.

"It is now, Sir. There were three who got by us. They tried to make a break for it through the alley. LAPD got them, but the agents at the scene were caught off guard. We've got three down; the ambulance is on its way."

Don felt his blood turn to ice.

Charlie. Charlie was in the alley.

_Please, God, tell me he stayed in the truck._

Without a word, he hit the ground at a full run with David and Colby hot on his heels.

………………………………

As they entered the alley Don could hear paramedics calling out instructions.

"Clear."

The sound of a re-charging defibulator filled the small space.

"Hit him again."

"Clear."

Don looked around the scene.

All the windows on his SUV had been shot out. The side of the vehicle was riddled with bullet holes. A smear of something dark (blood?) was streaked across the big white **S **on the side of the SWAT van. There were two clusters of people on the ground, one at the rear of his SUV and one just behind the large van. A uniformed officer sat on the bumper of the van holding his bleeding right arm up to his chest and staring at the group in front of him. The paramedics were, again, using the defibulator and working furiously to stabilize the injured cop who lay there. Around the back of his SUV, he could see Agent Megan Reeves kneeling; a DEA agent who Don recognized hovered nearby. A lone medical tech had just stood and was blocking his view of the body on the ground. Don could just make out a mop of curly dark hair spread on the concrete next to Megan's knee. The tech turned and walked away. Surely he wouldn't leave unless……..

"NO".

Colby moved first and brushed by Don, giving him a brief glance before running to where Megan was kneeling. When she looked up at Colby, Don could see the tears in her eyes.

Don put his head down and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He couldn't do this. Anything but this.

Time stood still while a thousand images flew through his minds eye. Charlie, a tiny baby, staring up at him from his crib…..as if he were keeping something from him... A three-year-old Charlie calculating the number of Cheerios in the box by volume and single serving count approximation. Little Charlie, withdrawn and unspeaking until his brother made him laugh again. Seven-year-old Charlie grinning like a fool and handing his big brother his completed geometry assignment, delighted beyond reason that he had done something to make his brother happy.

And that same look on Charlie's face when he had asked him to help out with this case. That same dumb-ass grin, thrilled to be a part of his big brother's world.

His brother's world, but Charlie didn't belong there. He should never have been here.

David reached out and grabbed him by the arm. Don had turned a ghastly shade of white, his expression completely void of emotion.

"Don…?."

David's voice at his elbow brought Don crashing back to the reality that lay before him.

Suddenly, as if he had stepped out of a trance, Don pulled his arm away from David and ran to the end of the truck where his brother lay on the ground.

Charlie's face was pale, but with the exception of a small cut on his forehead, Don could see no blood.

He had expected blood.

Megan was holding Charlie's hand in hers and she looked up at Don.

"He's having some trouble breathing. They think he may have a few broken ribs, maybe a collapsed lung."

Colby answered Don's puzzled expression by handing him the black vest that was lying on the ground next to Charlie.

"The vest caught 'em."

There were four 9mm slugs buried deep in the back plate behind the solid cross weave of the light weight body armor.

"Oh God."

Don fingered the holes in the outer layer of the vest.

"He took four slugs?"

The implication of his statement hit Don hard and suddenly he found himself unable to remain standing. He sunk to his knees next to his unresponsive brother. He remembered the first hit he took in the vest. The pain had been excruciating.

"Charlie….."

His button down shirt had been pulled open and Don could see the angry red welts scattered across his brother's chest and ribcage. The backface signature contusions were already evident as purple bruises had started to form from the blunt force of the hit. His breathing was shallow, but he _was_ breathing. He was alive and the vest had done its job.

The paramedic that had been looking after Charlie returned.

"We've gotta get this guy out of here."

He indicated the injured officer who was being loaded into the waiting ambulance.

"Your guy is okay for now. Just watch his breathing. Another wagon will be here in five."

Don looked down at his brother. He could see the confusion and distress brewing behind his brothers closed eyes.

"He's coming around."

………………………………

Charlie felt as if a heavy weight was lying on his chest. Had he been playing football again? It almost felt like this that one time that Don had tackled him…Dad had yelled at him for it.

"_You can't hit him like that Donnie, he's too small for tackle football." _

Did it hurt this bad then? He couldn't remember. He had seen a man enter the alley. That man had looked him right in the eye and then……

Realization of what had happened crashed into Charlie and he realized quite suddenly why it hurt so much to breathe.

………………………………

Charlie's eyes shot open and his sudden gasp for air doubled the pain that was radiating across his chest. Don could see the sheer terror in his brother's eyes as he struggled to inhale. Charlie was thrashing around on the pavement like a fish out of water. Don grabbed his brother's shoulders and pushed Charlie down, effectively restraining him. The wide panicked eyes found his big brother's face and stayed there.

"Don?"

A barely audible whisper.

"Just breathe, Charlie."

"Can't…..Hurts."

"Yeah, it's gonna hurt Buddy. But you're alright, you just need to breathe. Okay?"

Charlie drew in a ragged breath, forcing himself to expand his lungs.

"Good, Charlie…just like that. Keep breathing."

Charlie closed his eyes against the pain that was spreading across his chest like fire.

Don looked up at the concerned faces of his team and the other officers who had gathered around. How much time had passed?

"Where's that other ambulance?"

"I'm on it."

Colby ran back toward the street and the approaching sirens.

Moments later he returned with two uniformed EMT's.

It only took them seconds to get Charlie loaded into the back of the white van.

"I'm riding with him."

The medic put his hand up to stop Don from climbing aboard. David grabbed the man by the arm.

"He's his brother."

The medic nodded and Don climbed into the back of the ambulance with Charlie, still holding the kevlar vest tightly in his grasp.


	4. Extraordinary Improbabilities

**Chapter Four: Extraordinary Improbabilities**

Federal Agent Colby Granger scanned the brightly lit room. Several rows of hard plastic chairs were spaced across the area. Just inside the door a young blond woman sat, flanked by two uniformed policemen. One officer put his hand on her shoulder and she reached up and patted it reassuringly. A cop's wife, without a doubt. Granger shuttered at the thought of what that poor woman must be going through. He ran his eyes over the rest of the room's occupants.

Several more uniformed cops were scattered across the room. One of them looked up at Colby and nodded in silent greeting when he saw the letters emblazed across the FBI vest he still wore. Two very nervous looking young women, obviously shaken by the number of guns that they could see, had moved to the far end of the sitting area when he had entered the room. He spotted the senior agent in the far corner. Don was sitting on the edge of the chair. He was leaning over, his head in his hands.

Don's defeated stance brought all of Colby's fears to the surface. It wasn't uncommon for internal injury to result from stopping a bullet with your chest….even if it was halted by the best body armor on the market. It was still like being hit with a sledge hammer even with the vest to stop the bullet. Charlie's vest had stopped four. Four bullets fired at close range. He could see scenarios of broken ribs, collapsed lungs and internal bleeding caused by the blunt force trauma of four separate hits. He cautiously approached Don's chair. As silently as he could manage, Colby slid into the seat next to him.

Don opened his eyes at the approaching footsteps. He could recognize Granger's shoes as the younger man walked by and sat down next to him. Don didn't look up, but asked…..

"How is she?"

"Megan's fine. She has a mild concussion and needed a few stitches. There were some minor burns from the explosion, but nothing severe. She got lucky. They are going to release her as soon as they get her sutured up."

Colby looked closely at Don.

"Charlie?"

Don took a deep breath and lifted his head.

"He passed out in the ambulance on the way here. They took him straight back to trauma. I haven't seen or heard anything since."

Colby leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. He could see Don was about to come unraveled despite his forced composure.

"Did you get your Dad?"

"No, he doesn't have his phone on, it went straight to voice mail."

Colby looked up at the TV in the corner.

"He'll call when he sees the news."

Don turned to the television.

"Dad doesn't watch the evening news."

Footage that must have been taken from the street just outside the alleyway was the lead story. It showed Don, FBI vest painfully visible in contrast to the white vehicle he was standing next to; while two EMT's loaded the clearly recognizable Charlie into the ambulance. The still burning truck could be seen in the far background of the shot.

The officer who had been standing next to the injured cop's wife reached up and adjusted the volume on the set. On the television, a middle-aged man with graying hair looked solemnly at the camera.

"The largest drug bust in California history. That's how we begin tonight. Good evening, I'm Tim Butler. A drug bust that turned into a police standoff has ended tonight. News 18's Janice Rochelle is live at the Port of Los Angeles. Janice, what can you tell us?"

"Well Tim, two LAPD officers and two federal agents were injured tonight in a shocking gun battle just yards from where I'm standing. The raid netted eighteen suspected drug runners. Eight suspects were injured, with four confirmed fatalities. None of the dead were law enforcement. FBI Special Agent Don Eppes, who headed the investigation, was unavailable for comment. The details of the injured officers conditions are not known at this time and their names have been withheld pending family notification."

Pictures of LAPD officers securing the crime scene filled the screen as the reporter's voice continued.

"Sources close to the FBI tell us over five thousand pounds of cocaine were seized. The drugs have a street value of more than two hundred million dollars. An undisclosed amount of cash was also confiscated, along with nearly two thousand pounds of marijuana."

"The DEA says this is easily the largest narcotics bust in California history. The bust was the result of a two week investigation by the FBI into the dramatic rise in reported overdose fatalities."

The reporter returned to the screen.

"And Tim, officers have told me they also seized a large quantity of a new liquid form of ecstasy called Blue Nitro, which has become the drug of choice among the youth of L.A. So, hopefully, this will make a large dent."

The shot returned to the anchor.

"Let's hope so, Janice. Thank you. Also today, the……"

The volume on the set was readjusted as the story ended and several sets of eyes in the room shifted to where Don sat.

His cell phone rang almost instantly. The LCD screen showed 'DAD'.

"Well, hell. I guess he does watch the news."

Colby stood up and walked across the room giving Don a supportive glance.

"My husband and his partner were shot tonight." The blond woman was speaking to him. "Two of your agents were injured too?"

"Yeah, one of my partners…and our…my…." he paused, not exactly sure how to categorize everything Charlie was to their team. He wasn't just a consultant. He was one of them, and Colby counted him as a friend. He swallowed hard.

"Yeah….we had two agents injured."

She stared at him, a look of sympathetic understanding passed across her face, and then she turned her attention back to the double doors that led into the hospital's trauma center.

Colby looked over at Don. He had finished what must have been a very short conversation with Alan Eppes. Don picked Charlie's bullet proof vest up off the chair beside him and held it tight to his chest like a child would hold a cherished toy.

The double doors opened and a middle aged man in a white lab coat stepped into the lobby.

"Anyone here for Charles Eppes?"

Colby and Don were on their feet instantly.

The doctor took in the scene. His eyes went from the uniformed cops across the room to the two men in front of him wearing the bold yellow letters on their chests that identified them as federal agents.

"I'm Dr. Harrison. Have you contacted his family?"

Don swallowed hard.

"Don…..Don Eppes…..Yeah….Yeah, I'm his brother. Our father is on his way."

Every soul in the room was waiting for the doctor's next words.

"Your brother is going to be fine. His vest distributed the trauma somewhat evenly over his ribcage. It's unusual to see so little damage from multiple contusions of this nature. He has a few broken ribs and some minor bleeding in the intercellular space, but there is no internal hemorrhaging, so the damage should repair itself in time."

The physician glanced at the black vest Don still held in his hands.

"Your brother is a very lucky young man."

Don smiled as he thought of Charlie's likely response to such a statement. Four shots fired. Four points of impact. And he was going to be fine. The improbability was mind boggling. Statistically, he was dead….again. Don almost laughed. The list of things they had in common was growing.

"Can I see him?"

………………………………

Don looked down at his brother. He looked so small….motionless, almost frozen. It was disconcerting to see him be so still. His brother was always in motion, his body in a constant battle to keep up with the velocity of this intellect.

Don's silence prompted Dr. Harrison to begin his explanation.

"He is going to be in a considerable amount of pain tonight. That kind of bruising takes time to heal and sudden movement will be difficult for a day or two. I'm assuming he will have someone to stay with him?"

"Yeah….um…is he…….has he?"

Don couldn't find the words he was looking for.

Dr. Harrison answered his unspoken question.

"No, he's sleeping now. We gave him a mild sedative to calm him down. His CT scan was clean, there's no further injury, but I wanted to wait till we got him calm and alert so we can access his level of pain before we hit him with any unnecessary analgesics. I want to keep him overnight for observation and then we'll go from there."

Don pulled a chair up next to his brother's bed.

"I'll be back to check on him in a while. Just buzz the nurse if he's in pain when he wakes up."

A few seconds after Dr. Harrison left, Colby stuck his head in the room.

"How is he?"

Don turned toward the door.

"He's out. I'm going to stay for a while….at least until Dad gets here."

"Yeah, of course. I'll let Megan know he's okay. I'm gonna take her home and then head back out there to give David a hand with clean up."

Colby pulled the door quietly shut and left Don alone with Charlie.

With a deep sigh of relief, Don leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes.

"You mad……at me?"

A small penitent voice almost knocked him out of the chair.

"Charlie?"

The implied sentiment of his brother's question was unnerving.

Don stared at him. Charlie turned his eyes away, looking at the foot of the bed.

"Please……don't……. be mad."

"Mad at you? Charlie! _Why_ in the name of _GOD_ would I be mad at YOU?"

Don couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was the one who had deserted his younger brother. It was his job to take care of Charlie…that job should have come first. But he left him alone and defenseless in a dangerous place….in the line of fire….he wasn't close enough to stop it….to protect him they way he should.

Interpreting the volume of his brother's reply as anger, Charlie kept talking.

"Tried….to stay…….in truck…..really did. SWAT team…….there….and…thing…blew up…… Megan…….back…..cops…everywhere…..thought… it…was over….."

His brother was on the verge of hysteria, his breath coming in ragged hitches between each word he spoke.

"Didn't….mean…it to …..happen. Just…don't…be mad."

For the first time in as long as he could remember Don felt he was on the verge of a meltdown. He knew if he spoke his emotions would break loose with an intensity he would have no control over. Keeping emotions in check….it had become his signature.

_Stay strong Don. _

He had become quite good at maintaining his feelings. Charlie had never really gotten the hang of it. Every sentiment, every change in mood or emotion was written plainly on his face. And right now Don could see the complete and utter torment in his brother's eyes, while he waited for condemnation from the one person whose approval he had been striving to achieve throughout his entire life. Don didn't speak. He just couldn't. Instead he took a deep breath and rested his forehead on the rail of his brother's bed fighting to maintain his composure.

_You have to be the strong one, Don. Never let him see you cry._

………………

Charlie was stunned. Don wouldn't even look at him. His brother was hiding his face. Through the haze of whatever the doctor had given him, Charlie tired to find the logic in this. He knew Don was going to be angry. He remembered the unbearable pain that the simple act of breathing had given him. When he came to in the alley, he had thought he was dying until he remembered that his brother had put a vest on him. The pain was no longer unbearable. It still hurt like hell and every word he tried to say made it harder and harder to draw a normal breath. He wanted to continue his apology. Make Don look at him. He hadn't meant to get himself shot. He had unintentionally got in the way and he was embarrassed by the sheer idiocy and lack of common sense he had shown. Why in the hell did he walk back out into the open like that? He should have gotten back in the truck. Don told him to stay in the truck. If he had only listened, this never would have happened. But instead of the open wrath Charlie felt like he deserved, Don kept his head down, unspeaking. Charlie wasn't sure which was worse.

………………………………

Don took a few deep breaths.

_Pull yourself together Eppes_….._Charlie doesn't' need to see you break._

He lifted his head and looked at his brother. He met his uncertain gaze and Don shook his head at him.

"No….God, no. Charlie, I'm not mad."

He finished the thought in his head.

_Scared shitless, yeah, but not mad._

Charlie closed his eyes again.

"Okay."

………………………………

Alan found both of his sons sleeping when the nurse led him into the room. She busied herself checking Charlie's IV and turned the volume down on the heart monitor that was beeping steadily. Alan put his hand on his youngest son's forehead. Charlie didn't stir. Don hadn't specified the circumstances or severity of his brother's injuries over the phone; just that there had been an accident. But he had seen the news and a shoot out between drug dealers and the FBI hardly sounded like an accident. The nurse had told him that Charlie would be fine and Alan was more than relieved to find the damage so minimal.

He picked the black vest up from the floor where it had slipped from Don's grasp. He couldn't keep his hands from shaking when he saw the four slugs still planted there. Since Don was still wearing his, he could only assume this vest had been on Charlie. How does a mathematician accidentally get shot four times while he happens to be wearing a bullet proof vest? Whatever had happened, he was sure Don was the reason Charlie had been wearing the vest that had saved his life. But if he put it on him, that also meant he was the reason why he was in the position to get four bullets in it.

He wanted to wake Don and demand to know how he had let this happen. He looked closely at his first born. Don looked so….beaten. He had a small bandage on his right temple and blood on his shirt collar. His sleeves were rolled up and Alan could see the scrapes across the back of his arms. His jeans were torn and looked singed. What had happened tonight? He didn't need an explanation to know that the likelihood of having lost one, or even both of his sons was on the high end of the probability scale.

This could have been……so much worse.

Alan said a silent prayer of gratitude and quietly took a seat across the room. An explanation could wait.

………………………………

"Hey Don? What are you doing here?"

David Sinclair took in his supervisor's ragged appearance as he entered the FBI bull pen. It didn't look like he had slept and he was still wearing the same clothes from the raid the night before. He'd never seen Don look so thoroughly unraveled.

"How's Charlie?"

"Surprisingly….pretty good. He's still in some pain, but he seems fine. He insisted on oral painkillers, so they took his IV out early this morning. Doctor Harrison wants one more x-ray, but he plans to release him this afternoon."

Don saw his friend eyeing his wrinkles clothes.

"Dad sent me home to change."

"And yet, here you are."

David eyed him tentatively.

"Yeah, I needed to stop by to sign a few things since I didn't make it back here after the…..you know."

Don's reluctance to finish his statement gave David a good idea as to the answer to his next question.

"How are you doing?"

He looked closely at the dark circles under Don's eyes.

"I'm……"

Don looked at his friend's inquisitive stare and knew it was pointless to be economical with the truth.

"I'm not sure."

Don sat down heavily at his desk, his voice scarcely discernible in the midst of the customary office chatter of mid-morning.

"I just…feel so…. .I should never have taken him out there knowing as much as we did about criminal activity in that area. I know that he's gonna be fine, but I can't get the image of what could have been out of my mind. The fact that they didn't have armor piercing bullets along with all that other firepower……"

Don's volume increased as he tried to verbalize his feelings of guilt.

"He blamed himself. He thought I was mad at him. He was waiting for me to rip him apart and he wouldn't have resented me if I had. He thought he deserved it!"

The memory of Charlie's woeful repentance at having left the truck was almost overwhelming.

"Did you see his vest? I kept it…I couldn't let go of it. The threshold for material failure drops with each impact. The backplate was this close to being compromised. It was too close. His chest looks like someone beat him with a two by four. When I saw him lying there I thought…….I just couldn't imagine how in the hell I going to tell my father that I had taken Charlie out in the field and gotten him killed!"

His tirade ended in an overwhelming finale of honest, raw emotion.

"I almost killed my baby brother…..David….he could have died!"

Don's last sentence hung in the air and several conversations around them ceased suddenly.

In the few years he had known Don Eppes, David had learned fast that he was not a man to disclose his feelings. If Don was going to crack, the office might not be the best place to do it.

"Let me take you home, ok?"

Don despondently got up from his chair and followed David to the elevator.


	5. Anomalous Hostility

**Chapter Five: Anomalous Hostility**

Charlie didn't recognize the shiny new suburban that was pulling into his driveway. He cautiously peeked around the curtains. When he saw his brother ascend from the driver's seat his mind recalled the image of Don's SUV that he had seen in the paper, perforated with bullet holes, glass shattered. Yeah, a new truck was probably a good idea. He opened the front door and greeted his brother with sincere enthusiasm.

……………………………

It had been four days since what he and Alan had started referring to as 'the incident.' Charlie's ribs still hurt, and the bruises had gone through every shade of the rainbow. They were now developing into a grotesque hue of green. His dignity still hurt too, but that was an open wound. After giving his statement on 'the incident' to Colby (which he had expected Don to be present for), Charlie was starting to wonder why his brother hadn't been by or called him. He hadn't seen or heard from Don since that night at the hospital. He had left early Thursday before Charlie was even awake. Charlie thought there might still be chance that Don was mad, even though he had said he wasn't. But the truth was Don had seemed almost frightened.

_Yeah right_. Charlie really wondered sometimes if his brother was afraid of anything. Even if he was, he wouldn't own up to it, even being afraid of what had almost happened. But Charlie had been petrified and he was completely primed to admit it. He wanted to shut it all away. He wanted to disappear and conceal everything he was feeling.

_The way you always do_. He did want to hide, but he also wanted the chance to clear the air and get back to doing what he had become so good at; consulting for the FBI and working with his brother. Charlie had intentionally stayed far away from the garage and had spent much of the last few days convincing his father that what had happened was nobody's fault. And now, much to his own surprise, he needed to talk to Don. He wanted to. He had finally called Don on Saturday night and left a cryptic voice mail telling him to come over as soon as possible.

……………………………

"Hey there, Don. Where have you been?"

Charlie's buoyant inquiry was met with unembellished exasperation from his older brother.

Stopping in the open doorway, Don was taken aback to see Charlie so upbeat. He had expected to find him hiding out the garage again and from the uncertainty in the message left on his voicemail; Don figured he was completely lost in his numbers by now. He was almost prepared to see Charlie working himself to exhaustion in front of his blackboard again. But Charlie appeared to be fine, better than fine. And for what Don had come prepared to say to his brother; this was not the mood Charlie was supposed to be in. For reasons he could not explain, he found that exceptionally irritating.

"I've been working Charlie, which is what I should be doing now. Did you need something?"

Charlie's exuberance quickly faded.

"Yes, in fact. I do, Don. I need my older brother to stop avoiding me."

He wasn't used to being this direct with Don. His brother usually just got the hint without making Charlie verbally expose all of his insecurities.

"I just thought…..I wanted to…..I needed to see you, that's all. I was still a little out of it Wednesday night and then you never came back by and I just felt like…well, maybe we still had some things we needed to…you know….talk about."

"What is there to talk about, Charlie?"

Charlie's open, hopeful expression had crumbled and Don could see the impending upheaval brewing behind his brothers' dark eyes. They had faced a lot of hurdles this past year. He had really felt that they had started to make serious progress in rebuilding their relationship. Now this. Don was about to blow it and he knew it.

If Charlie thought they needed to talk, then he was going to say what he came to say.

"Talking about what happened isn't going to make it any less of a problem, Charlie. I never should have taken you out there. Bringing you into this was a bad idea from the very beginning. I made a tremendous error in judgment and I'm not going to let it happen again. I've already told Merrick that you would no longer be consulting for our local field office."

Charlie met his brother's determined glare, disbelief manifesting itself plainly across his face.

"I am not a child Don. You have no right….._NO RIGHT_ to do that. I'm perfectly capable of making my own choices and I don't need you dictating to me what I can and cannot do. The work I do with the FBI is valuable. I know that. If you don't want me working with you – I'll find another team to assist…I'm sure that Director...…"

Don cut in.

"NO! No Charlie, you can't. I won't let you."

"You won't let me?"

Charlie had reached the end of a rope he didn't know he had.

He stepped toward the taller man.

"You can go to hell. You won't stop me from doing a damn thing. Who do you think you are?"

Don stared down at the defiant eyes in front of him. They had fought before, but his brother had never talked to him this way. A concentrated charge of resentment tore through him and he stepped forward, meeting his brother half way across the room. He was going to make Charlie understand this.

"I'm your brother! Damn it, Charlie! I'm the guy who is supposed to protect you! Not stand by while you get yourself killed. Don't you get it? You were shot FOUR TIMES."

"That's right Don, I was shot. ME…."

Charlie's assertion overlapped his brother's words…

"FOUR TIMES CHARLIE! Right in the chest!"

They were standing almost nose to nose now.

"If you think I'm not aware of the remarkable statistical improbability my being alive represents, you're wrong. I am more than willing to acknowledge that the most feasible outcome of my being shot should have been fatality. I can accept that."

"Can you Charlie? Really?"

The ridicule radiated off Dons words.

"Because I can't. If you hadn't been wearing that vest – we'd be at a funeral right now and you'd be the guest of honor. I can't do that Charlie and I won't let it happen! You're not going back to that office. It stops now!"

Charlie took a single step away from his older brother, balled up his fist and punched Don square in the mouth.

The shock of being struck by his younger brother threw him off balance and Don landed solidly on the living room floor.

Don sat on the floor gawking at the look of pure fury that had corrupted his brother's typically tranquil features. He couldn't believe it. To the best of his knowledge Charlie had never landed a truly solid punch in his life. He reached up and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. Charlie had split his lip. With a disbelieving smirk on his face, Don got to his feet.

Charlie took two full steps backwards away from his brother. He fully expected harsh retaliation for his actions. Charlie stared…..disbelieving at what he had just managed to accomplish and annihilate with one single act of violence.

Don took two steps forward. He and his brother had never come to blows before, but he'd be damned if he was going to be the one to back off.

Charlie instinctively started to move further back, but he stopped himself mid-step. He could see the blood creeping out over Don's bottom lip and he wondered if he had broken his knuckles. Don had showed him how to make a fist once so that wouldn't happen. But he had never tried it. He had never really hit anyone before.

Not like that.

He braced himself. He deserved to be pummeled and he wasn't going to run away from this.

With both his hands in fists, Don considered his need for immediate retribution. The stinging pain from his lip had fueled a frustration that he been suppressing for years. This had been a long time coming and Don was ready to make it count. He drew his fist back, but unexpectedly the mental picture of the black and blue marks that had covered his brother's upper body popped into his mind.

There was no way he could hit him back. Not today. Not after what he had just gone thru because of him.

"What in the holy hell is going on in here?"

Their father's voice turned them both toward the still open front door where Alan Eppes was standing. His look of shear disbelief and utter disappointment at what he was observing made both his boys cringe.

"Donnie? Were you going to strike your brother?"

Don closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. Then he turned his back to Charlie. He smeared the fresh blood that was running down his chin across his face with the back of his hand.

"No Dad. I was just leaving."

Without a second glance at his brother, Don walked past his astonished father, and out the front door of the house they had grown up in. He knew as he crossed the threshold, there was real good chance he wouldn't be coming back.

Alan stared at the stranger who was looking out of his youngest son's eyes. He hadn't moved from the place he was standing and he still had his right fist tightly clenched by his side.

"Charlie? What did you do?"

Charlie looked at his father and then at the swelling knuckles of his right hand in utter disbelief.

Wow.

Hitting someone in the face really hurt.

Not just someone. His brother.

He had just hit his brother! And now Don was gone.

His hands started shaking as the surge of anger and adrenaline that had been holding him up dissipated. He felt his throat clench and his stomach start to heave. He turned and ran for the bathroom leaving his father alone to speculate what had just happened between his sons.


	6. Clouded Perceptions

**Chapter Six: Clouded Perceptions**

Megan knew something had gone horribly wrong. When she walked into the office early on Monday, Don sat sulking at his desk already buried deep in the paperwork from their follow up investigation of the arrested suspects from last weeks drug bust. She couldn't help but notice the dark bruise along the left side of his jaw and the ragged crack that ran down the side of his swollen bottom lip. He kept his face void of any expression in an effort not to aggravate the injury and hardly acknowledged the perplexed members of his team.

That afternoon, the FBI, DEA and LAPD teams who had participated in the bust had been asked to attend a private ceremony to receive a commendation from the City of Los Angeles for their contribution to the war on drugs. When names were called a certain CalSci professor was not present to accept his honor. He was noted as having been injured during the raid and his absence was easily by-passed.

As the ceremony reached its conclusion, Richard Wells, the Director of the DEA was making a few final remarks.

"Thanks to the hard work and rather unorthodox mathematical approach of our local FBI, we have gained insight into the war on drugs that we could never have hoped to obtain with conventional means of investigation. And thanks to those extraordinary efforts we were able to remove almost ten tons of illegal drugs from the streets of Los Angeles."

As Wells spoke Colby leaned over Megan and whispered to Don, "Speaking of our unorthodox mathematical genius, where is Charlie?"

They didn't expect his callous answer.

"Honestly Colby, I really don't care, ok?"

Megan watched Don play nice at the short reception that had followed the ceremony. He accepted the congratulations and the occasional pat to the back with quiet nods, but he didn't speak and he never once flashed that trademark smile that she had grown accustomed to. Others associated Don's facial injury, and therefore his lack of verbalization, as a result of an aggressive suspect and no one gave his cracked lip and withdrawn expression more than a second glace….except for those who knew him best.

Yes, something had gone very wrong.

………………………………

The receptionist answered her phone.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation, Los Angeles?"

A distinctive male voice with an oppressive air of authority answered.

"I'm trying to reach Special Agent Don Eppes, please."

She had just seen Don walk out the door.

"He's out of the office, is there something I can help you with?"

The voice on the line answered quaintly.

"No, I simply must speak with Special Agent Don Eppes as soon as possible. Would you happen to know when he will be returning? He will want to speak with me."

The man spoke with a light accent that she couldn't place, but his English grammar and sharp pronunciation was better than most native Californians she knew.

"I can send you to his voice mail."

"That will not be necessary thank you. Is your Statistical Analyst in today?"

When did Agent Eppes' brother get a title? She smiled; enjoying this mans polite manner of speaking. In a moment of weakness she forgot her training. No names, no personal information.

"No, he's not. He doesn't keep an office here and I believe Professor Eppes has classes on Tuesdays."

"Oh, very well then", the voice replied. "I will attempt to reach _Agent_ Eppes later in the day."

The phone went dead as the call was disconnected.

………………………………

The follow-up investigation of the suspects that had been apprehended was going off without a hitch, but it was keeping Don buried in paperwork. Every detainee had fired shots on the scene and the other evidence against them thus far was quite impressive. This was going to make prosecution of the case an easy task.

Don had just returned to his desk and was about to dive back in, when Colby and Megan walked into the office.

Megan leaned over his desk.

"We just finished our last interview with the injured suspects from the raid and you are never going to believe who turned up."

Don raised his eyebrows at her.

Colby continued with the news.

"You know the little guy who fired the rocket launcher?"

"The one I shot…yeah."

"I'll give you three guesses as to what Columbian crime family this slime belongs to."

Don didn't need three guesses.

"He's a Sandoval?"

"Diego Rica Sandoval to be exact. Younger brother and U.S. operator for Mr. Ramón Sandoval himself."

Don whistled in amazement at this new piece of information.

"Did you get anything from him?"

Megan gave him a half shrug.

"Well, he didn't give up his brother if that's what you mean."

Colby laughed.

"He had a few choice words about the brutality of a certain Federal Agent who shot him without just cause and then left him in handcuffs all night."

"I guess he failed to mention the shoulder mounted rocket launcher in his statement."

"Yeah, he might have left that part out. But no worries, our case against this guy is spotless. Go straight to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200 dollars."

Megan agreed.

"He's right Don, it's wrapped up tight."

"One Sandoval in custody, that's great. But two. That would be even better. David, let's follow up on the Columbian connection here. See what you can find out from the DEA about the family's connections to narcotics in the U.S. or any other cases where their names have come up. Megan, I want you to get a hold of someone over at the AUSA's office. Find a way to put some pressure on this kid. He's the one who'll know how this stuff is getting smuggled in. If Diego is involved, his older brother is involved. Diego doesn't function apart from the family business, so there is a good change Ramón could turn up in California now that we have Diego in custody."

Then Colby spoke up.

"I'll pass the info on to Charlie, he may want to add these new variables into his equation and help us…."

"NO!"

Don looked at the startled faces of his team and then stared at the floor.

"No. Charlie is out. He's not a part of this case anymore."

And maybe not part of my life anymore. For a minute Don thought he said the last part out loud. He shook his head to dismiss the thought. He couldn't deal with that right now. Charlie could hate his guts for the rest of his life. If that was what it took to keep him safely in the classroom where he belonged, he could live with that.

He took a deep breath and faced his crew.

"Come on guys, let's get moving on this."

………………………………

"This is very unsettling Charles."

Charlie shuttered at the crestfallen tenor in his colleagues voice.

Professor Larry Fleinhardt leaned over the desk and rested his chin in his hands. He studied his young friend's swollen knuckles, now covered with chalk dust as Charlie continued to scribble numbers on the blackboard in front of him.

"I just wouldn't have expected that from you. You abhor violence of any kind."

Charlie turned to address the concerned physicist.

"_I_ didn't expect it from me Larry. It just happened."

Charlie threw himself into his rolling chair; sliding it across the room towards the window.

"I don't know what he wanted me to say. It was an accident, it happened, its over. And despite the unlikelihood of the fact that I am still alive, I am. I'm still breathing."

"You don't seem terribly troubled by the incident; I would think being shot would be a very disturbing event under any circumstances."

Charlie spun the chair around to face the older man.

"Of course it was a disturbing event. I was terrified. But when I woke up in the hospital and Don was so upset… … I….well, I was getting past it. I didn't expect to, but I was getting past it and I was ready to get back to work on this case. I had decided that I wasn't going to let another traumatic event keep me from being useful. I made a conscious decision that I wasn't going fade back into those shadows that Don has spent the last few years pulling me out of!"

He paused.

"Besides, I've been shot at a few times now. And, well, I think….maybe….I'm starting to get used to it."

Charlie had meant the last comment to be in jest, but Larry jerked his head up from the desk and gave him uncharacteristically contemptuous glare.

"Yes, you've been shot AT Charles, but this time you were actually hit. That's quite a different matter altogether."

"I was wearing a vest Larry! It hurt. It still hurts. It could have been a tragic event, but it wasn't. I could have reacted a different way. I didn't. And the experience didn't kill me as you can see. I'm fine! But that's not the point…..It's like Don _wanted_ me to fall apart. He wanted me to freak out again and lock myself in the garage! He wanted me to have nightmares again and stop eating and start working on P vs. NP. _He wanted me to!_ And don't think I haven't been tempted to get lost there again, but I stayed away from it! And then when he came over yesterday and said I couldn't work with him anymore…..he didn't ask me not to Larry, he forbad it like I was five years old again trying to follow him to the ball field. If this had happened six months ago, I might have been inclined to agree with him. But not now Larry! Now I know that applied mathematics can help the FBI solve impossible cases and select relevant leads for them to follow. What I do for them has saved lives. My work has real world applications and I need to be able to use it that way. It's become part of who I am. It's part of what keeps my head above the water. It's what has kept me on the surface after all of this. Why would Don want me to quit?"

Larry watched him attentively as Charlie finished his denunciation of his older brother.

After a few moments of uneasy silence he spoke.

"Have you stopped to consider…..that perhaps your brother has been affected to a more crucial degree by this event than you were? Do you think there is a chance that he was frightened _for_ _you_ beyond what he had ever thought himself capable of?"

Charlie looked warily at his friend. Larry was right. But what could Charlie do about it now.

"Don really took the overprotective big brother thing to far this time Larry. I had decided _this_ wasn't going to stop me, and then _he_ tried to. And instead of backing off like I always do, and giving him time to cool down……This time I punched him in the face."

"I can't imagine what would possess you to strike your brother like that, Charles. He is obviously deeply concerned for your well being."

"Oh for God's sake, Larry. I don't know what came over me! I was just angry and scared and I think maybe he was too. This was a fight we needed to have. It just didn't end in the desired manner."

Charlie walked back over to his chalkboard.

"I'll figure out a way to make this okay, Larry. There has to be a way to solve this. I already know the answer, I just have to work the equation backwards and figure out which variables are needed to get the preferred result."

"As badly as we may desire to do so, we can't solve complex human relationships with complex mathematical equations, Charles. You know that. Don't you?"

A half smile floated across Charlie's face.

"Yeah, but it's the only thing I've got."

He picked up his chalk and started writing.

………………………………

_Authors Notes: Please, oh please continue to leave feedback, I want to know what you think, but I'm also thrilled that you are enjoying the story!_

_Next Chapter: Unexpected Apathy_


	7. Unexpected Apathy

**Chapter Seven: Unexpected Apathy**

Megan hung up her phone and looked at Don from across the room. He met her eyes and she shook her head. No deal. There was very little the AUSA couldn't charge Diego Sandoval with right now including assaulting a federal officer with intent to kill. And that almost qualified as a minor charge. Add conspiracy to import and distribute illegal narcotics and they had enough on this guy to send him to prison for a very long time. They had tried to offer him deal after deal for information on his older brother, but Diego was standing mute. He wouldn't even verbally acknowledge that he had a brother.

Nope. No Deal.

She started for the center room where Don and David were working, but stopped when she saw Don slam his hand into the clean white board at the end of the room. That board should be covered right now. Colby noticed her expression and followed her line of vision.

"What do you think our chances are of getting Charlie back in here to help with this?"

"Absolutely nil, Colby. I don't think Don's gonna budge on this one."

"He's really not having a good week is he?"

"Nope."

"I wonder what poor soul decided to pick a fight with him while all this is going on."

Megan gave an expressive sigh and decided to share her suspicions.

"Well, the suspect is about 5'8", with dark curly hair and great big brown puppy dog eyes."

Colby understood her reference immediately.

"You mean Charlie?"

His disbelief was instantaneously replaced with concern.

"You don't suppose Don would have……"

Megan interrupted his question.

"His knuckles are clean. No scrapes, bruises or abrasions. So no, I don't think he hit him back."

Colby looked relieved, then grinned.

"Well, why the hell not? My brothers and I used to beat the crap out of each other all the time."

"Because Colby, respectable FBI agents try to avoid beating the crap out of mild mannered college professors."

She paused, serious again.

"But I've never seen Don like this before. Do you think I should try to get him to talk about it?"

"Bad idea. Sibling rivalry is nothing to laugh at. But if the opportunity comes up…I guess it couldn't hurt."

Colby stared across the room at the blank white board.

" 'Cause we really need Charlie back."

………………………………

When Megan and Colby walked into the conference room, Don was pacing the floor.

"Any luck in here?"

David glanced up from the table where they had file folders and pictures spread out across its surface.

"Well, we know these guys are brutal. They collect their debts swiftly and efficiently and if you can't pay up……"

He handed her a photo of something that had, perhaps once looked human, but had been beaten beyond recognition.

Megan made a face and passed the picture to Colby.

Don walked over and picked up the top folder.

"They took over the family business when Papa passed on. Their name started showing up as west coast players about two years ago. The NCIC database lists them as suspects in an organized crime ring. There were some indications that they had become involved in smuggling narcotics, but we've had little more than vague suspicions as to their level of involvement. Until this. It looks like Diego had talked his older brother into investing everything in this run. And we took them out.

The whole Sandoval family fortune is sitting in evidence right now. We got the drugs off the street, but we can't close this case. Ramón mostly stays out of the country, but with Diego in lock-up, there's a good chance he'll show up. Since Diego's arrest; we have been able to associate him with four homicides in Los Angeles County alone. Up until now they had both managed to avoid close run-ins with any branch of law enforcement. But with DNA evidence and fingerprints, we've got enough to put junior in a federal pen for the rest of his miserable life. He won't deal, so we are going to have to find Ramón on our own."

Don taped an old picture of Ramón Sandoval next to Diego's brand new mug shots and fingerprints, courtesy of the FBI.

Side by side, the two brothers looked nothing alike. Ramón was a much taller, much larger man who had a decent number of years on his twenty-something brother. But they both had the same eyes. They were the eyes of a killer.

Megan's cell phone rang interrupting the concentrated silence in the room.

"Reeves."

She gave her co-workers an apologetic smile.

"Oh, Larry."

"What?"

"When?"

"And did he…"

"Yeah, Okay."

Don glanced up at her. From the one sided conversation he knew where this was going to lead.

Megan looked worried.

"Um, Don? Larry thinks he may need some help with Charlie. He was really upset this morning and then he started working on a new equation. Now he's locked himself in his office and he won't come to the door or answer his phone…."

She paused, looking at Don. His eyes had narrowed, but his overall expression showed no emotion.

"Larry could hear him knocking his blackboards around and throwing things. He's pretty sure he heard glass breaking. That isn't like Charlie. Don will you…."

He didn't let her finish.

"If Charlie wanted me around, he would call me. I'm his brother, Megan. Not his custodian. If he wants to get pissy and trash his office that's his choice and its not my problem."

"But Don, Larry thinks he might hurt….."

"I really am not interested in what Larry thinks he might do."

"You don't care?"

"NO! I really don't."

Megan had always admired and respected Don. But she was appalled at his tactless attitude toward the credible suspicion that Charlie might injure himself.

Never being one to back down, Megan continued her confrontation.

"So you really won't care if your brother decides to throw himself off the roof of the CalSci Math building because you are a stubborn jackass?"

Don shot to his feet, knocking his chair to the floor.

"You don't know what this is about, Agent Reeves. I think you need to spend less time worrying about my family and a little more time worrying about your job."

"Why Don? Are you going to have me fired for being concerned? We care about him! He's a member of this team!"

"NO! HE'S _MY BROTHER_!"

"You wouldn't know it from the way your acting."

"That's enough!"

David stood between them putting his hand on Don's shoulder.

But Don continued.

"Are you trying to get yourself suspended, Agent Reeves?"

"Yes, Agent Eppes. I am. Because if I don't leave now, you're gonna end up with a black eye to match your lip."

Don slammed his fist on the table.

"Fine, then. Consider your suspension pending."

"Effective right now, Agent Eppes?"

Megan's voice was steady and cold.

"Yeah."

"Good – I could use the break."

Megan turned on her heel and marched out the door. Every eye in the bull pen followed her all the way to the elevator.

………………………………

_Authors note: I am taking for granted that Colby has brothers. He seems the type. I'm also working under the assumption that Don has the authority to suspend a member of his team. _

_Next Chapter: Abysmal Clarity_

_The only thing worse than fighting with your brother is knowing that you may never have the chance to say you're sorry. Please continue to comment! I'd like to know if your still with me! If I lose anyone I'd like to know where! THANKS!_


	8. Abysmal Clarity

**Chapter Eight: Abysmal Clarity**

Don sat down and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.

David gave him a cautious look.

"Don, do you……"

"Not now, David. I've managed to alienate just about everyone I know, I'd rather not move on to you next. I just need a few minutes okay?"

David turned and ushered Colby out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Don took a deep breath…in through the nose, out thru the mouth.

_What are you doing Don? Charlie was holding it together better than you could. You pushed him and you deserved it. You tell him to act like a grown-up? You've managed to screw things up pretty good. Way to go Eppes! Charlie may never speak to you again and now Megan? You might as well bowl over David and Colby too while you're at it. Let's see how many other relationships you can destroy today. _

"Agent Eppes?" You have a phone call."

A young woman had opened the door to the room interrupting Don's lament and earning her an intimidating glare.

"I'm sorry sir, but he says its urgent. He's on line two."

_That's just great. Maybe Charlie did throw himself from the roof. Give me one more good reason to hate myself. Now dad won't have to speak to me again either._

Don sighed and reached for the phone.

"Eppes."

"Is this Special Agent Don Eppes of the FBI?"

"Speaking. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, in fact, I believe there is. I understand you are the one responsible for putting me out of business and putting my brother in the hospital."

Don froze. This was too good to be true.

Frantically he waved David back into the room and put the phone on speaker. He needed to confirm his suspicion.

"I've put a few people in the hospital this week, so you're going to need to be more specific."

"Diego Rica Sandoval is my brother. I was informed he was shot by Special Agent Don Eppes during his arrest."

David's eyes widened, he gave Don a nod and hurried back out of the room, grabbing a tech to start a trace on the call.

Don put a smile in his voice and continued.

"Well Good Afternoon! Assuming that I am speaking with Ramón Sandoval; then yes, you've called the right guy."

"You are the agent who shot my brother, yes?"

"Well, he did try to kill several federal agents with a rather unpleasant piece of firepower and he will recover from his injuries."

The line was silent. And then…

"Well, let's get to the point shall we Agent Eppes? I am extremely unhappy with the FBI at the moment and I would very much like to see you in particular die a slow and painful death. But being that you have my merchandise as well as my money, I've decided it might be more useful to have you alive."

Colby taped on the window and help up all five fingers.

He mouthed the words '_Five minutes – stretch it out'_.

Don was starting to wonder where the conversation was going and he didn't think he was going to like it.

..._just gotta keep him on the line for five more minutes, come on _

_guys…….get that trace!_

"Well then, I suppose I should be grateful to you for not killing me?"

"Yes, you should be. Under normal circumstances, I would be forced to kill anyone responsible for harming Diego. But rather than kill you, I am prepared to negotiate with you for his release."

"Negotiate? As you pointed out, the FBI has your 'merchandise' and your money. I don't believe you have anything left to negotiate with."

Ramón laughed.

His reaction sent an unexpected chill down Don's spine.

"Well, Agent Eppes. That does depend on your point of view. See, I can get more cocaine and money is easy to come by. But some things are of a far greater value. I thought _you_ of all people would understand _pequeno hermano. _I will give you time to consider my terms."

Don stared at the phone. The line was still hot.

Ramón was no longer there, but he hadn't disconnected the call.

"Do you have the trace?"

The tech looked up from his computer as Don walked into the bull pen.

"It's coming."

David gave him a puzzled look.

"What was all that supposed to mean?"

Don played the conversation back in his mind, his brow furrowed intently. Then the meaning behind Ramón's more cryptic comments hit him…...hard.

"….I would understand _pequeno hermano_."

Then everything seemed to happen at once.

The tech at the computer called out "It's coming up now!"

Don leaned across the desk to see the screen.

The tech muttered the phrase under his breath trying to recall basic Spanish.

"_Pequeno?_ That's smaller...or little?

And…_hermano_….brother? Little Brothers?"

Before Colby or David could get around the desk, Don had hit the stairs at a full run.

Colby looked at the screen.

"Oh. Shit."

"Colby, Where?"

"David, it's the payphone outside the Math building at CalSci."

………………………………

_Next Chapter: Relentless Uncertainty_


	9. Relentless Uncertainty

**Chapter Nine: Relentless Uncertainty**

Don started dialing numbers before he even got out of the parking lot.

No answer on Charlie's cell. No answer on his office phone.

Megan.

She was on her way to campus.

She didn't answer either. Don frantically redialed all three numbers as he wove wildly in and out of traffic. No one was picking up.

_Damn it Charlie, don't do this to me._

_Please don't be at work_.

He called Charlie's house. Answering Machine.

_Oh God, this can't be happening. _

_Come on Charlie we can't let things end like this._

Don drove his suburban across the campus sidewalk and came to an abrupt stop directly in front of the building that housed his brother's office. He didn't even pause to turn off the ignition.

_This isn't happening._

_Please be sitting at your desk._

He hurled himself, full throttle, up three flights. Taking the stairs two at a time. Just as he left the stairwell and rounded the corner, his cell phone rang………it was Megan.

Standing in front of Charlie's office her phone still in her hand, Megan snapped it shut when she saw Don round the corner. She was shocked at his sudden appearance and wondering how he got there so quickly. Larry was standing next to her. He had his arms crossed, his left hand clamped tightly over his mouth and staring past the open door into the office.

Don could read Megan's ridged expression. He had seen that look on her face at more than a few crime scenes they had investigated together.

_This can't be happening._

_Don't tell me this._

She grabbed him at the door.

"Don, you don't need to go in there."

He felt his heart plummet into his feet. He pushed past her and looked at the chaos that had been his brother's office.

Chalk lay broken and scattered across the floor. The flat screen computer monitor, a new and prized possession, lay in pieces. It appeared to have been thrown hard against the wall. Two of the freestanding chalkboards had been knocked over. The numbers that covered them, written in a familiar script, had been smeared across their green surface.

It looked like every object on Charlie's desk had been hurled across the room and lay broken on the floor, including a very large heavy glass paperweight that a student had given him. Pictures had been knocked from the walls, the frames bent and broken. Glass crunched under Don's feet as he walked trancelike toward his brother's desk. The papers that were scattered across it were covered with dark red spatter.

His eyes rested on a bloody smear than ran down the dry-erase board that hung on the wall. He followed the mark down the board and onto the floor, not sure that he could handle what he half expected to find there.

David and Colby stumbled into the room and froze just inside the doorway. They had arrived on campus just behind Don. Megan remained rooted in place. It was like everything was moving in slow motion. She watched Don turn pale and stagger backwards. Colby made a move to steady him, but Don waved him away.

Don looked around the room wildly, fighting off panic.

There was no body. His brother was gone.

………………………………

Behind the desk, on the floor, a small puddle of blood was starting to congeal.

The FBI forensics team had scoured the room with an unprecedented meticulousness. They knew who this office belonged to and they were making double sure they didn't miss anything.

Every solid surface in the room was being dusted for prints, there were some good ones, but it was assumed all the clean prints would be Charlie's. They had taken samples from every drop of blood in the room to send for DNA testing, but even without a body, there was no question in their minds whose blood had been spilled there.

Don stood silently in the corner, his face set and determined. He was still the agent in charge and he intended to act like it. He wasn't going to fall apart. How could he do his job if he fell apart now?

He heard a gut-wrenching sob emitted from a distraught female student who had ambled past the active crime scene. He tried not to envision his brother…bleeding, hurt…dying. Maybe he was already dead. The mental image was revolting and Don fought hard to control the bile he felt rising in his throat. He was not going to let himself throw up.

He thought again of Charlie. Don knew his younger brother had always walked a fine line between sanity and madness. It was a part of being a certified genius. Charlie made it through the events of last Wednesday night and he had still been perched on the side of sanity. He had survived all of that….for this?

No matter what kind of self-assurance Charlie had developed, if he was still alive, he would be terrified beyond comprehension. Don bit his lip, trying to suppress his own horror. What in God's name had that bastard done with his brother?

As if sensing his thoughts, Colby walked up beside him.

"He won't kill him, Don. You heard what he said. He's going to try to trade Charlie for Diego. He won't kill him. Not while we have Diego in custody."

Don replied with a silent nod watching the CSI team bagging every loose item that was lying on the floor. His eyes caught one young investigator looking closely at the chunks of glass that has once been Charlie's favorite paperweight.

"What do you have?"

"Blood and hair, Sir. Somebody got slammed with this thing."

Don suppressed the new rush of nausea and tried not to think of Charlie with his skull cracked open.

"His?"

"No Sir, I don't think so. This hair is blond."

The answer surprised him and Don's heart skipped a beat.

"Charlie got one of them?"

Colby looked carefully at the bloody pieces of broken glass.

"Got them pretty good from the looks of it."

Megan hurried into the office.

"We've got witnesses."

She stopped at the sight of Don and Colby standing in the middle of the room. Don seemed to be holding up really well. Maybe to well.

"Don, are you sure you should be here?"

He didn't answer. But he forced himself to look her in the eye.

"_I think you need to spend less time worrying about my family and a little more time worrying about your job." _

"_Why Don? Are you going to fire me for being concerned? We care about him! He's a member of this team!"_

"_NO! HE'S MY BROTHER!"_

"_You wouldn't know it from the way your acting."_

Megan saw the guilty shadow pass over Don's face, and then it was gone.

That would have to do. She put her hand on his arm.

"It's okay, Don."

"I…..I…..I don't…..where else do you think I should be?"

"Home? With your father?"

Don rubbed his forehead.

"Have you called him?"

"No. Don, I think he needs to hear this from you."

"He will. But I need to work on this, Megan. I need to get him back"

"So do we."

Megan turned to Colby and David.

"A group of students saw three men exiting the building carrying what appeared to be a body. They thought it was a fraternity prank. It didn't occur to them that there was anything wrong until they saw what was going on up here."

"They see three men hauling a well known professor across campus and they thought……?"

"Four men, actually. The students said an older man met them on the sidewalk. They headed toward the south parking lot, but no one saw their car."

"They thought it was a prank?"

"I know it's hard to believe Don, but yeah. The only time they thought there might be a real problem was when…"

She consulted her notebook to quote the witness.

"….the really big guy who was bleeding all over the place started yelling at the older guy about not having a choice……."

She stopped when she saw the rest of the color drain from Dons face. "I've got it all written down."

She continued.

"Apparently some of the fraternities have been taking practical jokes a little too far lately and that's all they thought it was at the time. But they've given us good descriptions and are waiting for someone to take them in to look at some mug shots. Try to help us identity these guys."

Colby looked around the trashed office, then back at Megan.

"Bleeding huh? Big blond guy. Head wound?"

"Yeah, that's what they said."

He handed her the remains of the paperweight, now bagged and labeled.

"From the looks of things, I'd say Charlie put up a hell of a struggle. Whatever happened in here, he fought them all the way."

………………………………

_Authors Notes: Thanks for the comments! Please continue to let me know what you think. Knowing people are reading it makes it a lot more fun to write!_

_Next Chapter: Futile Resistance_


	10. Futile Resistance

_Warning: Violence ensues._

**Chapter Ten: Futile Resistance**

Charlie knew his head hurt. He just couldn't recall exactly why. His brain felt fuzzy and there was an intense pounding throb just above his left ear. He shook his head to clear it and quickly realized that was a mistake when he felt his stomach turn over. He fought the wave of nausea that swept over him and repressed the urge to vomit. He could feel motion and hear what sounded like a highway, but when he opened his eyes, there was only darkness.

A moment later a red tinged luminosity filled the space. He was in the trunk of a car. In the glow of the brake lights he could just make out the spare tire that was propped next to him. He was lying with his hands behind him, facing the back. When Charlie tried to move his arms, he found that he couldn't. A wave of panic rushed through him and Charlie fought hard to stay calm. What had happened? What was going on? He tried to recall the events of the afternoon and the scene began to play behind his eyes like a home movie.

He had been in his office preparing for class. Someone…big guy…blond….had walked into the room.

……

"Professor Eppes? I need you to come with me."

"Excuse me?"

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way Professor."

Two other men entered the room behind him, shutting and locking his door.

"What's going on?"

Charlie reached for his cell phone, but the man swiftly cleared the distance between them and wrenched it away. He grabbed Charlie's left wrist and twisted hard. Charlie started to yell, but the man hit him hard in the stomach knocking the wind out him. The pain rocketed across his still bruised torso and he felt his knees give out. Charlie hit the floor gasping for air.

"I guess you would prefer the hard way then?"

His stared up at his attacker. The stranger's eyes flashed with an intensity that chilled Charlie to the core. This guy wanted to kill him. What had he done to enrage him so?

Did he fail anyone last semester?

He tried to remember, but the hulking man reached down and grabbed a handful of dark curls, pulling Charlie to his feet.

"Shall we go then? We have a schedule to keep."

Without waiting for an answer he headed for the door dragging Charlie by the hair.

Charlie instantly altered his thoughts to numerical observations and memorized statistics.

Twenty three hundred American adults reported missing everyday. Of a yearly total only ten percent of those are true "abductions". Ninety percent of those are sexually motivated. Two point six percent are held for ransom. Less than one half of one percent of true "abductions" ends in murder. The calculations flew through his mind at light speed. Ninety Seven point six percent of adult missing persons are found in the first twenty four hours, one point three percent recovered beyond that time table and one point one percent never recovered. Using basic probability theory and statistical analysis, Charlie quickly established that the odds were against him. If they got him out of this building, he was as good as dead.

Almost instinctively, Charlie reached for something to defend himself with. His fingers closed around a heavy glass object on his desk. He swung it at his assailant. There was a loud crack as he made contact with man's head and the glass object shattered.

He released his grip on Charlie's hair and staggered backwards.

Charlie scrambled back behind his desk, astounded by the boldness of his own actions. Trying to clearly calculate the proper trajectory in his frantic state, he grabbed the next thing he saw; his lightweight computer monitor, and hurled it hard at the two other men who were heading toward him. He followed that with text books, desk trays, all his pencils and the oversized red coffee mug he kept chalk in.

The approaching men tried to duck and dodge his barrage of flying objects with little success. One of them lunged across the desk to make a grab for him, the other circling around from behind. Charlie seized his letter opener and slashed out across the desk, lacerating that man's forearm with his makeshift weapon and splattering blood across the papers covering the surface. He kicked his chair out at the third man, approaching from the side. Now the first goon had regained his balance and was staggering back toward him.

Charlie vaulted himself over his desk and made a mad dash for the door.

He didn't make it.

His first attacker, now bleeding heavily from a gash above his eye, grabbed Charlie by the arm and slung him against the wall. The force of his body striking the wall knocked several framed diplomas to the ground. The man stomped across the floor, shattering the glass in the frames and grabbed the front of Charlie's shirt, slinging him across the room and into the chalkboards.

"I was told not to hurt you. You're making that very difficult!"

Then in one swift motion, he picked Charlie up and hurled him across the desk, where he hit the wall and slid to the ground. The impact knocked the air out of him and brought tears to his eyes. Charlie pushed himself up on his hands and knees trying to catch his breath. He was certain all this noise could not go unnoticed. Please, let somebody hear them. As if in answer to his silent prayer, someone knocked loudly on the door.

"Charles? Are you in there?"

All three men stopped in their tracks. Each silently pulled a pistol and almost simultaneously aimed it at the closed door.

He had opened his mouth to call out a warning, but one of his adversaries slammed the butt of his gun against the side of Charlie's head. A ball of white light exploded in his skull. His vision was reduced to a narrow, blurry tunnel, but Charlie could make out the sadistic expression on his captors face as Larry continued to speak in an anxious tone.

"I did not want to have to do this, Charles. Destruction of property is not your customary way of dealing with issues. I feel I am obligated to call someone."

He felt the pistol hit him again and the tunnel closed leaving him in darkness.

……………………

Now he was in darkness of a different kind. Charlie reviewed the statistics that had prompted his desperate attempt to fight off his abductors. Now he was in a stranger's car with his hands bound behind his back. He was sure that he would soon be part of the one half of one percent. His hair was plastered to the side of his face by something sticky. Was he bleeding? How badly was he injured? Had anyone reported him missing? Did Don know? The thought of his brother and the last time he saw him was overwhelming. What if he never got the chance to fix things with Don? Charlie swallowed hard. He wasn't going to cry. These men would never see him cry. Charlie concentrated on what he knew would bring him comfort.

He was able to fight back tears, but he would not prevent his thoughts from consuming him.

Don was right.

Charlie was terrified beyond the realms of rational thought.

………………………………

_Next Chapter : Unprecedented Trepidation_


	11. Unprecidented Trepidation

**Chapter Eleven: Unprecedented Trepidation**

Don was gripping the phone so hard his knuckles were white. Somehow he had just managed to convince Alan that he needed to stay home in case Charlie called. He had spared his father the exact details of Charlie's disappearance, but he was unable to mask the anxiety in his voice.

"How bad is this, Donnie?"

"Dad….."

"I want the truth."

"Its pretty bad."

"Can you find him?"

"I'm going to try."

"This isn't your fault, Son. You've blamed yourself for..."

Before his father could finish Don had hung up. He couldn't let his father forgive him. Not yet. So soon and so easily. Not until this was over.

Don got up from his desk when he saw David walk out of the interrogation room. He and Megan were showing the witnesses mug-shots and surveillance photos of everyone they thought might be involved with the Sandoval family.

"We got a hit, Don."

"Tell me."

"Ricardo Estevez. Just did thirty-six months in San Quentin for aggravated assault. He's been out about twelve weeks. He didn't report to his P.O. on Thursday morning. We've put out a BOLO with his description to local hospitals."

Don looked at the mug-shot.

"The bleeding blond guy?"

David nodded.

The picture showed a large, muscular man in his early thirties. Hair looked like a dye job. Fierce grey eyes stared out of the photo. Don shuttered as he imagined Charlie trying to take this guy on.

Not just this guy, Don reminded himself, the witnesses said three.

What did they say to him? For Charlie to have panicked to the point where he would physically attack three men that he didn't stand a chance against? What would it take for him to do that? Surely he had believed he was fighting for his life.

Don's phone rang. He gave David a somber smile.

"Dad really wanted to come in here. I told him it wasn't a good idea. Hold on a second."

He grabbed the receiver.

"Yeah?"

"Are you ready to negotiate now, Agent Eppes?"

At the sound of the voice on the phone, any fear or guilt that Don had been feeling quickly dissolved and was immediately replaced with unyielding, furious anger.

"WHERE IS HE YOU SON OF A BITCH?"

Ramón Sandoval spoke in a calm and authoritative tone. His voice was completely impassive.

"Now, now. Don't get hostile. We would have called sooner, but the professor had some issues he wasn't willing to drop. It took a while to work them out. But he is reasonably docile now."

Don recalled the scene at Charlie's office. How much of that blood was his brothers?

"What did you do to him? Put him on the phone, let me talk to him."

Ramón continued with his response not waiting for Don to finish.

"He wasn't very obliging when we invited him to come and stay. One of my associates was a little upset with his lack of cooperation. Then when he tried to leave the party early, well, I'm afraid tempers got a little out of check. I don't believe there is any permanent damage, but he's really not able to talk at the moment."

Don was breathing hard, trying to fight off the burning sensation that had just crash landed in his gut. If this bastard really wasn't going to let him talk to Charlie, surely that could only mean one thing. Suddenly Don had to hear his brother's voice. He had to know that Charlie was still alive.

"You put Charlie on that phone right now or I swear to God I will walk into Diego's holding cell and put a bullet between his eyes. Put my brother on the phone!"

"Agent Eppes!"

Ramón's tone changed completely. His nonchalant, apathetic manner vanished and was quickly replaced with one of indisputable menace.

"Making non-consequential threats will get us nowhere! I know the law Agent. Harming my brother when he is in your custody will only turn your laws against you. I know how things work. You cannot harm your prisoners. I, on the other hand, can and I quite frequently do."

Behind Ramón's words, Don could hear scuffling followed by a loud whimper of pain.

Charlie.

What are you doing?"

The whimper grew louder.

"Stop hurting him!"

Don heard a loud gasp and then Charlie screamed.

Ramón continued his tirade over Charlie's howl of pain.

"There! Now you know he is alive. I'm afraid I still can't allow him to speak with you, but I can let you hear him scream."

The sound cut through Don like a knife and he felt as if he, himself would die before that scream would end.

"STOP IT! GOD DAMN IT….STOP!"

The scream abruptly ended followed by a soft sob.

Ramón spoke again. His cool and collected manner had returned.

"Was it worth it Agent Eppes? That's what you wanted to hear yes? He's a little more…..uncomfortable now, thanks to you, but he is still alive. How long do you want him to stay that way?"

Don let out the breath he did not know he was holding and he lowered himself back into his chair. The audible tremor of defeat in his voice was unmistakable.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I WANT my brother back, Agent Epps. And based on your reaction, I think its safe to assume that you would like to see yours again as well. I want you to work something out. You have six hours."

Don leaned forward in his chair.

"That isn't enough time to process a prisoner release. I can't just……"

But the line was dead.

He put his left elbow on his desk and ran his hand through his hair. His set the phone receiver down slowly, staring at it as if it could tell him something, anything, that he needed to know right now. Don started banging his right fist on the desk repetitively, resisting the urge to hurl the phone across the room. His anger and frustration quickly evolved to a rolling boil. With a shout of unqualified rage, Don stood and kicked his chair across the room and into the wall.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

The entire bullpen was completely still. Megan stood in the door, her hands firmly grasped together. David stood unmoving next to the desk and Colby was standing in the hallway. Nothing moved. No one spoke.

A ringing phone from across the room broke the spell of silence and instigated the return of speech and movement.

"There wasn't enough time for trace. Don? What happened?"

Colby was talking to him. What was he saying? Words didn't seem to mean anything right now. All he could hear was his own heart beating loudly in his ears.

"Don, we need to know what he said. We didn't get the call."

Megan was talking now.

Why were they talking to him? Don suddenly felt light headed.

_NO…I am not going to pass out._

He leaned against his desk and lowered his head, trying to breathe deeply. When David grabbed his shoulder, he jumped as if he had been hit with an electric current. Don felt his anger dissolving.

Every abduction recovery he had ever participated in played through his mind, the faces of every victim still sketched in his memory.

Fear, uncertainty and the first hand experience of how these situations can end knocked him off his feet and Don found himself kneeling on the floor next to his desk, surrounded by the three stunned members of his team.

………………………………

_Authors Notes: Please, Please continue to let me know what you think._

_Thank you for all of your comments thus far!_

_Next Chapter Unfathomable Acceptance_


	12. Unfathomable Acceptance

**Chapter Twelve: Unfathomable Acceptance**

"……one, six, five, five, two, five, six, three, seven, five, six, seven, eight."

Charlie had been reciting numbers when the car stopped.

The first ten thousand digits of Pi had just been calculated and enumerated, running through his mind, unimpeded by the boundaries of paper. Re-calculating the infinite digits of Pi always had a calming affect on Charlie. He was still counting, only moderately aware of his surroundings, when the trunk was opened. And he didn't stop counting until the pain of being unceremoniously yanked out of the trunk shocked him back to reality.

Charlie hit the ground with an involuntary yelp. His hands were untied, but he remained unmoving on the floor where he had been dumped. He tried to focus his eyes and get an idea of his surroundings. The car had pulled into a small building. From the tools and equipment he could see, it looked like a car repair shop. There were a few windows in the garage doors and the only light in the building came from the setting sun.

Charlie could see the purple, red and orange horizon just outside the window. He couldn't help but wonder if that would be his last sunset.

There were two voices speaking in low tones just behind him. He recognized one as the big guy from his office. The other voice was unfamiliar. But he was obviously the boss.

"He looks younger in this light. Are you sure this is the man I am after?"

"The sign on the door said Doctor Eppes."

"And just because he was in the office, doesn't mean that's who he is. He looks like a student. Ricardo? I thought you were smarter than this."

"There wasn't a lot of time to confirm identities, Mr. Sandoval. He wasn't very cooperative."

"Yes, that is a shame. I didn't want him in this condition. Not right away. But there is little we can do about that now. You should go clean yourself up Rick. You look dreadful. I'll keep an eye on our new friend."

"Don't be fooled. He's fast as hell."

The man chuckled.

"I'm not worried."

Charlie could hear heavy footsteps fading across the room.

He saw a pair of designer shoes walk into his line of sight and he knew he was being scrutinized by the man behind his abduction. They didn't know if they had the right guy.

Suddenly, from behind, another pair of hands grabbed a hold of his pants and started going through his pockets. The shock of someone groping him so unexpectedly caused Charlie to react without thinking. He kicked his right leg out with as much force as he could muster and connected with a kneecap.

"Damn it!"

A loud angry curse echoed through the garage, prompting Charlie to keep moving and he quickly scrambled across the floor towards the door.

The explosive sound of a gunshot filled the room as a part of the door Charlie was heading for splintered, immediately followed by two more shots that dug themselves into the wall next to his head. Charlie stopped moving. He hunkered low to the ground and started to put his hands up.

"You little punk!"

Something swung toward his head and slammed into his raised right arm.

Charlie felt the bone break as the force of the blow toppled him to the floor.

He braced himself for another strike, but the boss voice interceded.

"Hank, put the crowbar down. There's really no need for that."

"He busted my knee, man!"

"If you hit him again Hank, I will shoot you."

Seconds passed as if Hank really had to think about it. The heavy footsteps of Rick walking back into the room seemed to make up his mind. He answered by hurling the crowbar across the room.

"Damn!"

"You should have been more careful."

Rick spoke.

"What's the matter Hank, get clipped?"

"He kicked me."

"Well, he didn't exactly give me love tap with that paperweight and Jerry is going to need stitches in his arm."

The boss voice was back…..what did Rick call him….Mr. Sandoval?

"Rick, get his wallet."

Charlie felt hands searching him again. This time he didn't move.

His wallet was pulled roughly from his pocket and he could feel its contents being tossed at his back. Then the wallet itself was dropped as well.

"I told you this was our guy."

"When you asked me to help you collect a college professor, I was expecting an old man or something. I just wasn't prepared for a kid."

"He's not a kid. Look at the birth date on his I.D."

"The point is gentlemen, this _is _Professor Charles Eppes. Take him into the office. We have a phone call to make."

Charlie was pulled across the floor and hurled into the corner of the small office next to an old desk. He curled himself up into a ball as best he could, while holding his right arm tightly to his chest.

What did this guy want from him?

The boss plucked a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed.

"Are you ready to negotiate now, Agent Eppes?"

Hearing his brother's name sent a shockwave thru Charlie.

_They were after Don. Don knows what has happened! Don would help him._

He lifted his head and watched his captors face carefully as he continued to speak.

"Now, now. Don't get hostile. We would have called sooner, but the professor had some issues he wasn't willing to drop. It took a while to work them out. But he is reasonably docile now."

Charlie knew this statement would upset his brother and suddenly Charlie wanted nothing more than to hear Don's voice. Sandoval kept talking.

"He wasn't very obliging when we invited him to come and stay. One of my associates was a little upset with his lack of cooperation. Then when he tried to leave the party early, well, I'm afraid tempers got a little out of check. I don't believe there is any permanent damage, but he's really not able to talk at the moment."

_Don wanted to talk to him. Don would fix this._

Suddenly Sandoval's expression changed. He looked at Charlie with what could only be described as hatred.

"Agent Eppes!"

His sudden outburst at Don sent currents of fear through Charlie.

"Making non-consequential threats will get us nowhere! I know the law Agent. Harming my brother when he is in your custody will only turn your laws against you. I know how things work. You cannot harm your prisoners. I, on the other hand, can and I quite frequently do."

While Sandoval was still speaking, he reached out and grabbed Charlie by his injured arm, hauling him up to his knees. Charlie tried to wiggle away, but the man was twice his size. He tightened his hold and started squeezing Charlie's broken arm. Charlie tried not to cry out, but the pain was too much and a whimper escaped him. The grip got tighter and tighter and he could hear the broken bones in his forearm crunching together as it was squeezed in the vice-like grip. When he felt something else crack, Charlie sucked in a deep breath and tried to control himself. _You will not!_ Charlie gritted his teeth, doing his best to refrain from crying out. Sandoval looked at him, both disgusted and amazed at his silence. Then he twisted Charlie's wrist as hard as he could. As the new and excruciating agony shot up his arm, Charlie heard himself scream.

Sandoval started yelling at Don.

"There! Now you know he is alive. I'm afraid I still can't allow him to speak with you, but I can let you hear him scream."

Just when Charlie was certain he would pass out from the pain that was searing up his arm, the grip was released and he hunkered back down on the floor. He took a ragged breath and a sob escaped him.

Sandoval's next words were bleak and foreboding.

"Was it worth it, Agent Eppes? That's what you wanted to hear yes? He's a little more…..uncomfortable now, thanks to you, but he is still alive. How long do you want him to stay that way?"

The man paused and looked at Charlie as if he were acknowledging his newfound terror.

"I WANT my brother back, Agent Eppes. And based on your reaction, I think it's safe to assume that you would like to see yours again as well. I want you to work something out. You have six hours."

He hung up the phone.

Charlie stayed were he was on the floor. Still on his knees, he laid his right arm across his lap and hugged himself tightly with his left, trying hard to control the shaking that seemed to permeate his entire body.

"Well, Professor. I think that went well, don't you?"

Charlie didn't move, or speak.

"Charlie? Your brother called you Charlie. He seems quite concerned with the situation you have found yourself in and I really believe that he will do everything I ask."

Sandoval turned and walked to the door. He stopped and looked back at Charlie.

"I want my brother released. He took mine, so I took his. That's fair isn't it Professor? He will do as I ask and then he can have you back."

As Sandoval left the room, Rick kicked Charlie hard in the back knocking him off his knees and onto his side.

"Or at least we'll give him what's left of you."

Charlie pulled himself into a fetal position and tried to hide in the corner. His mind started working again.

Two point six percent of all 'true' abductions are for ransom.

One half of one percent of abductions ends in murder.

Thirty two point eight percent of ransom abductions end in the accidental death of the hostage during rescue.

Twenty Five percent end in the intentional execution of the hostage.

The numbers brought him no comfort. It had been at least two hours since he was taken from his office. Now this man had given his brother a six hour deadline. Charlie didn't need to recalculate his figures. The numbers said he was going to die.

_Who do you believe? Sandoval…? Or the numbers?_

_Yeah…that's right Eppes. Numbers don't lie._

………………………………****

_Authors notes: I'm glad you are all enjoying the story. Please continue to leave feedback! I like getting your opinions and perceptions on where I am going with this!_

_Next Chapter: Inadequate Choices_


	13. Inadequate Choices

**Chapter Thirteen: Inadequate Choices **

Don stood at the bathroom sink. He splashed his face again with cold water. His own reflection startled him. He had never seen himself look so frantic and he was sure no one else had either. They had never seen him totally lose it before. He was supposed to be the leader, the one who kept his head in any situation...no matter what.

But knowing Charlie was in the hands of this lunatic was more than he could handle.

What was he going to do? The team was working on it, but six hours wasn't enough time to arrange the release of a federal prisoner. And who could say that they could even get it done with adequate time.

What was Ramón trying to accomplish? Did he just want revenge for being outsmarted by the FBI or did he really think that kidnapping a federal agent's brother would assure the release of his own?

"Don?"

David opened the door to the men's restroom and stuck his head in.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

He walked up behind Don and looked him over in the mirror. His boss was leaning over the bathroom counter his hands spread apart, with his head held over the sink.

"Don. We found a possible address for this Estevez. Megan's working on a full warrant. The tactical team is on standby. "

"Yeah….okay."

"Don?"

After several minutes Don took a deep breath and shuttered.

"He hurt him, David. It was……..God…I could hear him….that bastard hurt him just so I could hear him screaming."

David grimaced.

"Oh man. Don…."

After a few minutes of silence, Don rubbed his face and lifted his head, meeting David's eyes in the mirror.

"It isn't going to happen is it?"

"It's not going to be easy, but Colby's working on it. Granting a prisoner release isn't something they're just do because we ask them to and this guy, he's a big catch. They aren't just going to let you walk him out of here."

Don turned to face him.

"You don't have to tell me that. But if I don't find a way, he will kill my brother. We're talking about Charlie here, man!"

"I know, Don. I know. We're doing everything we can."

There was a hesitant knock on the bathroom door and Colby peered into the room.

"David….?"

David glanced from Colby back to Don and then walked to the door. After a few hushed whispers, they both walked into the room and turned to face him. David's face had taken on a bewildered expression and Don felt his stomach twist into knots again.

"David…..What is it?"

He couldn't meet his eyes.

"Don…"

The knot got tighter.

"WHAT IS IT?"

"I don't……..."

He couldn't finish.

"What?"

Don looked desperately at Colby.

"Colby what? Is it…..Charlie?"

"No, Don….No, not that. But...holding just called. Diego Sandoval is dead."

Don felt his knees give out and he slid down the wall to the floor.

"When?"

Colby knelt down next to him.

"About twenty minutes ago. Not from the gunshot wound Don. He had an allergic reaction to something he was being treated with. They are thinking sulfa. He went into anaphylactic shock and died on the way to the hospital."

"Does the press have it?"

"No, not yet."

Don put his head between his knees trying to control the fresh wave of panic.

"He'll kill him. He's going to kill Charlie."

Colby stood up next to Don.

"We still have four hours."

"To arrange a trade! That's not exactly an option now is it!"

David walked over to Don and reached to help him up.

"No, but we still have four hours to find him."

Don clasped his extended hand and let David him pull him to his feet both literally and figuratively.

Colby looked at his watch.

"Three Hours and Fifty Two minutes."

"Then we'd better get moving."

………………………………

_Authors notes: Glad I've still got everybody. Please, keep leaving your comments!_

_Moving along...Back to the action in the Next Chapter: Truncated Successes_


	14. Truncated Successes

**Chapter Fourteen: Truncated Successes**

Megan looked over at Don. The lead agent looked pallid and determined but something was missing. She had never seen him do this without furiously chewing a stick of gum.

Two teams of federal agents had surrounded the single story home in North Inglewood, last know address of Ricardo Estevez. Don had paused at the side of the house and spoke into his headset.

"Team one in place."

David's voice answered through the tiny earpiece.

"Team two in place."

God help Ricardo Estevez if they found what they were after in his house.

"Team two, this is Alpha leader – you're a go."

"Team one – let's move, move, move!"

With a single swift motion, they busted the front door down and stormed the residence.

"FBI, Warrant!"

The backdoor flew open and the second team entered.

Each agent called out "Clear" from their respective locations around the house.

The place was empty.

Colby looked at Megan as if to say 'now what?'.

Don slammed his fist into the wall in frustration. This was hopeless. Time was running out and they had nothing. No one was here and it looked like no one planned on coming back. The two teams proceeded with their search, but Don knew they wouldn't uncover anything that would help him find Charlie.

David has walked out of the building and was standing in the yard talking on his cell phone. As the rest of the team approached, David waved them over.

"That was the lab. We've got another hit."

Don felt his heart jump into this throat.

"Location?"

David headed for the truck.

"Yeah, I'll tell you on the way."

Colby took the drivers seat and hit the gas before all four doors had been closed.

"Where to?"

"St. Francis Medical Center."

"Compton? What's at St. Francis?"

"Jerry Devolto."

"What do we know about his guy?"

"Well, according to the lab, all that blood in Charlie's office……Well, most of it isn't his. Just what was concentrated behind the desk. The tests confirm that the blood and hair on the broken paperweight belongs to Estevez, but most of it belongs to this Devolto. He's an ex-con, DNA on file. A clean record since his release, but a violent offender. They sent out a new BOLO for Devolto to area hospitals, assuming he might require medical attention and they got a call back from St. Francis less than five minutes later. A man fitting Devolto's description is sitting in their suture room waiting to have an eight inch gash in his forearm sewn up. He said he was mugged. Claimed the guy had a knife."

Don clenched his teeth.

"A knife, or a sterling silver letter opener?"

………………………………

The twelve mile trip from Inglewood to Compton took all of ten minutes with Colby driving, emergency lights and siren blasting. As the truck came to a stop outside the emergency entrance to St. Francis Medical Center, David turned and addressed the team.

"Security is ready to apprehend him if he tries to leave, but they are waiting for us. Don?"

"I'm okay. I want to talk to him before I kill him. Let's go."

………………………………

"What the hell do you mean he hasn't come back?"

Sandoval's voice exploded outside the door and startled Charlie out of a fitful attempt to rest. He could hear the discussion going on in the garage.

"I sent him to get his arm looked at about three hours ago and he hasn't come back. I thought you'd want to know."

"Go get him."

"What?"

"Hank, go. Find him….now."

The door to Charlie's prison opened a few moments later and he squeezed his eyes shut trying to look relaxed.

Ricks ineffectual attempt at a whisper filled the small room.

"He's still out. He doesn't look so good. I think maybe he's in shock. Did you see how he was shaking?"

As the door closed back, Charlie could hear the conversation continue as they made no effort to suppress the volume of their voices.

"It doesn't matter. He'll be dead soon anyway."

"What, you givin' up?"

"Even if they can manage to arrange Diego's release, the FBI needs to suffer for what they have done. Not just to my family, but to my establishment. They took one of mine and I will take one of theirs. I selected this one because he is also the lead agent's brother…that was an unexpected bonus that I could not help but exploit."

"I thought the point was to give Diego a get out of jail free card."

"If it can be done. I love my brother and this is what I am willing to do for him. But I also lost over two hundred million dollars. I want his freedom. I will settle for retribution."

"Yeah, well…as long as you pay me, you can do whatever the hell you want to. Pay me enough and I'll do it for you."

"Just keep an eye on him, but please restrain yourself. I need him alive until I know there is no chance of getting Diego back."

"Right….hands off, eyes open."

Charlie struggled to control the despair that was rising in his chest.

_They are going to kill you. Don will not be able to save you. Nobody can. No matter what Don does, they are still going to kill you. _

His whole body ached and he had to concentrate hard to keep from being sick. The agony that seared through his arm when it had been broken, re-amplified and was now threatening to overwhelm him. Charlie fought off the waves of nausea and tried to lift his head to get a better look around the room. His vision clouded over and great white fireworks seemed to go off in front of his eyes.

_NO, NO, NO. You will not do this Eppes. Passing out is not an option! They are going to kill you! DO YOU WANT TO DIE?_

Charlie put his head down, breathed slowly and waited for his vision to clear. Then he tried again, slower this time.

_Better…good. Okay, Charlie. Look around. What do you see…. Door, desk, filing cabinet, chair, window._

_Window?_

A small window, the kind that pushed out, not up, was placed not so conveniently adjacent to the six and a half foot ceiling on the office. Charlie could see this wasn't going to be easy and his captors must have figured it to be impossible since they hadn't even bothered to pull the window shut. Charlie tried to pull himself to his feet, holding his breath.

_You have to Move! Pain or Death. Come on Charlie. Nobody is going to save you, but you. GET UP!_

………………………………****

_Authors Notes: Please continue to let me know what you think. Your comments have been very encouraging. If you don't want to post a comment, please send me a private email. I seriously want honest opinions about my writing._

_Next Chapter: Lucrative Failure (Things are about to get ugly, so brace yourselves!)_


	15. Lucrative Failure

**Chapter Fifteen: Lucrative Failure**

Jerry Devolto looked carefully at the woman sitting in front of him, trying to decide if she was legitimate.

The nurse had just finished with his sutures when the four federal agents had shown up. He had tried to run, but the older agent tackled him before he had managed to take three steps. They said they just wanted to talk, but he was pretty sure that the three men just wanted to beat the shit out of him. One of them actually managed to hit him before the woman took him into this room alone. Now she was trying to get him to roll on Sandoval. She obviously didn't know much about the man Jerry worked for. If he kept his mouth shut, he might go back to prison for assaulting the professor, but he would still be alive. And he'd get out again.

"Jerry, if you tell us everything you know about him, we can help you."

"Help me? He hit me. I can sue you guys."

"You were resisting arrest, Jerry. And you assaulted a federal agent."

"I was already cuffed……."

"It would be your word against ours."

He glared at her. She had a point about that.

"Jerry, we need to know where Ramón is keeping Charlie."

"Who?"

"Try to remember, Jerry. Charlie? About half your size, dark hair, math professor. You attacked him in his office and took him to your boss, Ramón Sandoval. Do you remember that now, Jerry?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I told you that already."

"Come on, Jerry. Are you really going to take a murder rap for this guy?"

That got his attention.

"Wait a minute, I didn't kill nobody!"

"Are you sure? Because Professor Eppes is still missing and we have DNA evidence that proves you were in on his disappearance."

"I want a lawyer."

With those four words, Megan knew it was over if she didn't hit the nail on the head right now. She had one more chance. Once he lawyered up, he wasn't going to tell them anything.

"Ok, fine. Jerry, that's your right. But I want you to understand that if Charlie Eppes turns up dead, and you refused to give us his location, that's accessory to murder. If we can prove that you were at that location, and I'm sure we can, we will charge you with homicide. As it stands we already have enough evidence on the assault and kidnapping to get a conviction. But before you think about prison, I want to remind you that you will also have an entire bureau of federal agents that are going to take the death of Professor Eppes very personally, not just those three guys out there. And for my part, I'll make sure every single agent in the bureau knows about you. You'll have someone on your ass every second of every day. You can't hide from the FBI, Jerry. Anytime you do manage to spend on the outside will be a living hell. You'll wish they kept you in prison."

Megan turned and smiled sweetly at him.

"But if this is how you want it….we'll get you a lawyer."

She turned to walk out of the room.

"Wait?"

That got him.

………………………………

Don was waiting outside the hospital security room with David and Colby.

All three men looked as if they could kill Jerry Devolto with their bare hands. He had denied everything and had spent a good twenty minutes adamantly insisting that they had the wrong guy.

Charlie's time was running out!

When Colby ascertained that the only way to get him to talk was to beat it out of him, it was decided that Megan should take him into a room alone for a one on one chat.

Don looked at David.

"And you were afraid I'd hit him?"

Colby leaned his head against the wall rubbing his fist and exhaled loudly.

"Don, I'm sorry I……….but what if he won't tell her?"

Don shrugged his shoulders and gave him a wry smile.

"Then we'll have to do it your way."

A few minutes later, Megan burst out the door.

"Let's go."

She was almost running hardly slowing down as she rounded the corner and headed for the outer doors.

"They're here in Compton Don. A body shop on Colyer."

………………………………

Charlie had somehow managed to push the desk over another few inches so it now sat just under the small window. Using his good arm, he lifted the chair onto the desk and put its back against the wall. Working silently, it had taken him the better part of an hour. The pain across his back was almost unbearable and he could barely manage to move his arm without doubling over in agony. How was he going to manage getting up to that window? When the outer door to the garage slammed shut, Charlie froze halfway onto the desk.

"Well, where is he?"

Hank had come back.

"I think….maybe jail? The feds are all over the hospital man."

Charlie's felt his heart skip a beat.

_They were looking for him. Don was looking for him. _

"That's too bad. We will have to push our time table up a bit. Will he talk?"

"He might. But that's not all there is."

"What?"

"I heard something on the radio in the car and …..I'm not sure how to tell you this. Your brother Diego was brought in to the county hospital about four hours ago. He was in some kind of respiratory distress caused from shock. I think he's dead."

Charlie didn't wait to hear the rest. With a surge of adrenaline, he pulled himself up onto the chair and reached for the window.

………………………………

The black SUV peeled out of the hospital parking lot, Colby again behind the wheel. Don had climbed into the backseat and was busy pulling out their gear.

David closed his phone and twisted in his seat.

"The second assault team just left Inglewood. They can get there in ten minutes."

"And us?"

"Five."

Don tightened his vest.

"I'm not waiting."

"Neither are we."

Don gave him an appreciative glance.

"Megan, what else did you get?"

"Three rooms. Main garage, small office and bathroom. Charlie's in the office."

"Did he say if….."

"Yeah. He…..it's not good Don. He really put up a fight. Jerry said they messed him up pretty bad."

Don bit his lip and slammed a new clip into his Model 22 federal issue GLOCK, chambering the first round. He felt the truck accelerate as Colby maneuvered thru another red light at full speed.

………………………………

Ramón Sandoval looked at Hank in astonishment.

"What do you mean my brother is dead?"

"They said on the radio that a high profile suspect from the drug bust had died on the way to the hospital. So I called lock-up, said I was Diego's lawyer. They told me he wasn't there, but had been taken to county in respiratory distress. That's all I know."

Sandoval stormed toward the door of the office as Rick stepped out of the bathroom.

"You're supposed to be watching him."

"What? I had to go…"

He pulled out his phone and dialed, removing a 9mm Beretta from his jacket.

"Times up Agent Eppes."

………………………………

Don felt his stomach drop.

"I still have 30 minutes. They've agreed to the release but I….."

Ramón interrupted him with a shout.

"DO NOT patronize me, Agent! My brother is dead. And now yours is too."

He could hear a door slam open. Don knew what was coming next, but couldn't tear the phone away from his ear.

For a moment he was perplexed by the extended silence, but then a single gun shot rang out on the other end of the line.

"Jesus."

Don slung the phone into the floor as if it had bit him.

"Oh, God. He just shot him."

Colby took another corner at full speed slinging them all to the side of the truck.

Megan stared at him in shock.

"Don…what?"

"He killed him. He just…..he just….he just….."

Don stopped talking. He stared at the phone on the floor.

He felt like he had just been dealt a physical blow. An unfamiliar sensation radiated over him in waves akin to pain.

Charlie was dead.

He was too late.

………………………………

_Authors Notes: Ok. Let me have it! I'll post the next Chapter as soon as I can, I've just got a few kinks to iron out._

_Next Chapter: **Revealed Veracity**_


	16. Revealed Veracity

**Chapter Sixteen: Revealed Veracity**

Less than two minutes later the SUV pulled up next to the large brick building. The door to the garage was standing ajar. Before Colby had brought the truck to a complete stop, David and Megan had their doors open and were running toward the building, guns in hand. Megan paused at the front entrance and David headed for the rear of the building. Colby followed Megan and they tore through the front door. Don didn't move. He couldn't. He felt like he was watching them all proceed in slow motion

_I failed. I failed and now you're dead. And nothing else matters. I did everything I could and it still wasn't enough. There wasn't anything I could do. I'm so sorry Charlie._

He heard Colby shout.

"FBI, don't move!"

A series of gunshots from inside the building brought Don out of his shock induced daze.

_You still have a job to do Eppes. They still need you to do your job. This isn't over yet. _

He pushed down his emotions and let the trained federal agent take over, leaving the devastated older brother of Charlie Eppes in the backseat of the SUV.

………………

Don moved stealthily through the door and into the garage. In the dim light he could see Megan crouched behind a burgundy sedan, her weapon leveled at a door near the back of the building. Colby sat awkwardly on the floor next to her with his back to the vehicle.

Several blind shots were fired in Don's direction, catching him off guard. He squeezed off three rounds in return as he ran for cover and felt a burning pain radiate across his left shoulder. Don instinctively hurled himself to the floor and fell behind the small counter at the front of the building. Another round tore through the cash register above his head.

He heard Megan return fire from behind the car. From his position behind the counter, Don could see David entering through the back door of the building on the same wall as the office and just out of the gunman's line of sight. They needed a distraction so David could get close enough to take down the shooter. Don darted out from behind the counter and fired three more shots in the direction of the small room. The automatic weapon was pulled back into the office as the gunman took cover and the three slugs from Don's GLOCK buried themselves in the door frame. David saw the shooter stumble backwards into the room and he dove toward the open door and fired two shots. Then everything was still.

David got slowly to his feet, gun still aimed at the prone figure on the floor just inside the office door.

"Everybody okay?"

Megan stood and reached down to help Colby up.

"Granger took one in the vest and went down pretty hard. I'm alright."

Colby staggered over to the trunk of the car.

"I'm okay…just need to catch my breath."

Megan looked at Don. He was standing by the front counter, a dark crimson stain spreading quickly down his shirt sleeve. His face was almost expressionless as he stared past them at the place the gunman had been standing. Only a glimmer of the grief he was feeling reflected in his eyes.

"Don…?"

The lead agent didn't respond. He seemed oblivious to his injury.

"Don? You're bleeding. Where are you hit?"

He still didn't take his eyes off the door to the office.

Megan left Colby leaning against the car and ran over to Don.

"DON? How many times were you hit?"

He answered her question with one of his own.

"Is he in there?"

David glanced at Don and he saw Megan nod her head at him. He needed to know. They all needed to know.

David stepped over the man he just shot and cautiously entered the small office. Behind the body of the large blond man he had fatally wounded, a second corpse lay heaped in the corner. The blood splatter on the wall was apparent even in the dim light that shone through the door. David felt his heart slamming in his chest. There was just no way this was for real. This couldn't be Charlie.

"Guys….we've got a body……..."

Megan had ripped Don's sleeve to get a better look at his injury. He remained rooted in place. He seemed unaware of her presence and had made no effort to move toward the office.

Colby glanced at Don and Megan, and then followed David into the room.

"David? Is it….?"

His partner was kneeling on the floor, giving the second body a close examination.

"I don't think…..no, it's not Charlie."

"You don't sound sure."

"It's a face shot, point blank, but no…no, it's not him."

Megan was putting pressure on Don's arm to stop the bleeding as Colby stepped back out of the office. He shook his head at the other two agents.

"It's not him."

Don's voice betrayed the hope he was trying to repress.

"Are you sure? David? Are you guys sure?"

David stepped out of the office to look directly at Don.

"I'm sure. It's not Charlie. He's not here. But Sandoval isn't either."

At that moment, another vehicle could be heard pulling up outside the building. Then a familiar voice came over their headsets.

"Team one, this is tactical backup, state your position."

Megan answered the call.

"Team one. We couldn't wait for you. Location secured but we've got a code three. That's a code three! Requesting emergency medical assistance. Single suspect at large. Possible hostage situation. Copy?"

"We've gotcha team one. Ambulance is on the way. We're coming in."

………………………………

Despite his physical injury, Don had remained in full agent mode. Any mental anguish he was feeling was well hidden behind the unwavering professionalism of a seasoned federal officer. When the second team stormed in he gave the orders and got everyone started on securing the crime scene. Megan pulled a stool up from the floor and sat it next to the counter motioning for Don to sit.

He shook his head.

"I need to do this."

"Don, you're bleeding. You need to sit down and wait for EMS."

"It's not bad. Just a graze………"

He responded to the exasperated expression on her face.

"Really…...I'm fine."

"No. You're not. Don, please. Bleeding to death won't help Charlie. You're being difficult."

Don screwed up his face and gave Megan an apologetic look that might have been comical under any other circumstances.

"And I'm a stubborn jackass."

She glared at him as she walked out the door.

"Yes, you are."

But there was an underlying smile in her tone.

Don surrendered and sat down.

Colby had made his way across the garage and he looked at Don in alarm.

"How ya doing, Boss?"

"I'll live. You?"

"I think so. Man, I hate it when that happens. It hurts like hell. I still can't quite catch my breath."

Colby grimaced as he rubbed his hand over the hole in his vest.

"Thank God for the bullet proof vest."

Don nodded in agreement.

"Amen."

The memory of Charlie's own close call slipped past Don's mental blockade and the reality of the last six hours threatened to come crashing down around him. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly and again Don reined in his emotions.

_Not yet Eppes. You've got to find him first_.

He swallowed hard and turned to Colby.

"He's not dead?"

He tried to make it a statement, but it still came out as a question.

"If he's not in there, he can't be dead."

"Don, what did Sandoval say? What did you hear on the phone?"

"He knew his brother was dead. He told me Charlie was too, I heard a door open and then the shot…that's it."

Colby shot Don a peculiar look.

"I have a crazy idea. Suppose Charlie wasn't in the room where he was supposed to be? Suppose Sandoval just shot the first person standing there."

"One of his own men?"

"Yeah."

"He needed someone to shoot and Charlie was no longer available?"

"That's what I'm thinking. If he had shot him Don, his body would be here. He had no reason to let him live and he would never have let him just walk out the front door."

"That door is in the middle of the garage. He couldn't have snuck past them. Is there any other way out of that room?"

Colby helped Don to his feet and they headed for the small room at the back of the building. The two agents in the office turned and Don nodded to them.

"Hey guys, can we have the room for a minute."

There was no light except what was shining in from the open door and the exiting agents handed Colby and Don their flashlights. With two bodies on the floor, there was little standing room in the small office. The desk almost filled the room and a single folding chair was lying on its side on the floor next to the wall. The coppery smell of death pervaded the small space. If it weren't for a slight breeze, the odor might have been unbearable.

Don's eyes searched the room for the source of the air flow. He looked at the walls trying not to linger on the blood and grey matter that was splattered on them. It could have been Charlie's.

_But it's not, Don. It's not. You have to find him._

His eyes went straight to the small window barely visible in the dark.

"Well look at that. Now who'd put a window way up there?"

"It provides air flow without the possibility of someone using it for entry…or exit….Don, that window is way too small for someone to climb out of."

Don shook his head.

"Maybe for you and me. But not for Charlie. It would have been tight, but I think he could have made it."

When Don and Colby exited the garage, Megan was surprised to see them walk quickly past the arriving paramedics and behind the building. She caught David's eye and they followed their teammates into the alley. Don was shining a flashlight up at the top of the wall, where a small window stood open.

"Don?"

"I don't think Sandoval took Charlie anywhere. He got out."

"That window is about twenty by ten, if that. Even if he wasn't injured, he never could have……."

Don interrupted.

"He could have gotten his head and shoulders through there. Look closely."

Megan scrutinized the window.

"Get me up there."

David put his hands together and boosted Megan up till she was eye level with the window.

"We've got some blood. Across the bottom of the sill."

"There's a little down here too."

Colby pointed at a spot on the ground next to the building.

"If he landed that hard, he couldn't have gone far."

David called out to one of the members of the tactical team.

"Hey, call in a code six. We've got an injured civilian out here somewhere and I don't want local P.D. to start shooting at us or him while they're searching for the suspect!"

Megan looked at Don with concern. She could see the verbal articulation that Charlie was alive had sunk in and an impenetrable fortitude that she didn't recognize had permeated his ashen features. The blood loss from his wound had not been excessive, but still significant. As it was with any gunshot wound, Don needed medical attention. But from the solid determination behind his eyes, Megan could see that the ambulance would have to wait.

"Have EMS stand by, we're still gonna need 'em."

………………………………

_Authors Notes: What kind of monster do you think I am?_

_Keep giving me your input...the more you comment the faster I'll get the next Chapter up!_

_**Addendum to my Notes 6/12/06:** In the spirit of not committing "reviewer blackmail" as accused by my faithful reviewers I revise my prior statement. Don't hate me for my need to hear from you! (Since I can't leave smiley faces here - just know - I am smiling!)_

_So for the record, it will make no difference what-so-ever how many of you leave comments. I will still post the next Chapter within 24 to 48 hours if at all possible._

_But I do like to know that you're out there. And it's nice to know what kind of reaction each chapter of the story provokes from each of you. I'll admit it. I like to hear from you and I will not be ashamed of begging! So please, for the love of all things holy, let me know your thoughts as you read each chapter! I will be forever grateful._

_Next Chapter: **Equitable Culmination **_


	17. Equitable Culmination

_Authors Notes: Well, the unintentional blackmail worked and I have been inspired._

_You are a fantastic support group. This is better than AA._

_What step am I on? Oh well. Hope this does the trick._

**Chapter Seventeen: Equitable Culmination**

Charlie stuck his left arm over his head and let his body fall. He braced himself for the head long plunge into the alley, but the leg of his blue jeans caught on the window frame, successfully slowing the pull of gravity long enough for him to duck his head. He somehow managed to come down in a roll and narrowly avoided smashing his skull on pavement. He landed hard on his right shoulder and the rest of his body rolled out flat on the ground with a bone jarring thud. Every nerve ending he had screamed at the impact, waking up every bruised, broken or abraded surface on his body. Charlie lay on his back breathing through the pain and staring up at the tiny window he had just managed to tumble out of. _What the hell were you thinking? God, you could have broken your neck. _Through the open window a sudden eruption of noise pulled him out of his cloud and reminded him why he chose to take a head first dive out a window.

"….And now yours is too."

Charlie heard the door to the office slam against the wall as it was thrown open, Sandoval's voice echoing in the small room. Charlie started to lift himself off the ground, but before he could get to his feet a single gun shot rang out. He froze in his tracks. Seconds later Rick's disbelieving voice carried out the window.

"You shot Hank."

"Well, Damn it. I had to shoot somebody didn't I?"

Sandoval's answer prompted Charlie to keep moving.

"Get the car. I'll see how far he got."

Charlie struggled to his feet. _You'd better run, Charlie. NOW! _

With more speed than he thought himself capable of, Charlie took off down the alley toward the back of the building and emerged on the street behind the garage.

He didn't slow down, but took in his surroundings as he moved. Nothing looked even remotely familiar and Charlie felt an upsurge of panic as he realized he had no idea where he was. _Where you are doesn't really matter 'cause you'll be dead soon if you don't go somewhere else. _

Just down the street, a narrow alley beckoned and Charlie ducked into the entryway and stopped with his back against the wall. Back in the direction he had come from, a steady stream of gunfire erupted resonating through the narrow passages between the buildings nearby. It was close. Close enough to have come from the garage. _Don. It has to be. You found the garage_.

Charlie turned to step back onto the street, but he stopped himself. Looking longingly back the way he came. _Don being where you were isn't going to help you where you are. Sandoval followed you and if he finds you he will kill you. His plan was to kill you. This isn't over yet._

Charlie stepped back into the alley and turned away from the sweet sound of several .40 caliber handguns being fired in succession.

He ran up the alley and rounded the corner into a run down industrial district. Crossing the street, Charlie spotted a dumpster sitting just inside another alley. He slid into the shadows behind the dumpster ignoring the barrage of smells that assaulted his senses. As his original surge of panic passed, Charlie's shoulder reminded him of the fall he had taken from the window. It had been surprisingly numb during most of his flight and the new wave of pain, coupled with the returning sensation of agony in his broken arm was almost overwhelming. Charlie put his back to the wall and involuntarily slid to the ground. As gingerly as he could he pulled his tattered denim shirt off and tried to wrap it around his arm. _Just need to rest for a minute. _He tried to take his mind off the throbbing pain in his arm and his mind instinctively began its customary reaction to exhaustion, fear and pain. Numbers and symbols started their parade across his consciousness trying to block out the reality around him. The minutes ticked by and he felt himself slipping into his own world. W_hat the hell are you doing, Charlie? Resting. Just resting. No. You're not. You're hiding. You can't hide forever. You've spent your whole life hiding. You've got to get out of here. Now get up!_

With a mental effort of monumental proportions, Charlie pulled himself away from his numbers. _They'll still be there when you get out of here. Stand up. Now!_

He pulled himself to his feet and glanced into the street. _No one in sight. Good. Now go. _Dropping his shirt next to the dumpster, Charlie pulled his arm tightly to his chest and ran down the street, past a hardware store and into a much narrower passage that ran between two of the buildings.

………………………………

Don started cautiously up the street searching for any evidence that his brother may have fled in that direction.

"He'd have known they'd come after him. He probably found a place to hide."

David walked up behind him.

"Don, he may not be thinking clearly."

"No, but he doesn't know this area, or which way to go for help. If he knew Sandoval was after him, he'd try to stay out of sight."

Don paused and almost smiled.

"He's always been pretty good at that."

The team spit into pairs and started out across the intersection, weapons drawn and ready. They moved in silence at a fast past down the street, scanning the narrow passages that ran between each set of buildings.

Megan motioned into the next alleyway. Don nodded and followed her past the garbage cans that littered the entrance. This passage emerged into an industrial area that had definitely seen better days. Megan was scanning the entrance to yet another alley when she saw it.

She waved frantically at Don.

"I've got something here."

At the corner a familiar lightweight denim shirt was lying discarded on the sidewalk. It was ragged, torn and stained with what could only be blood. _Charlie's blood. Oh God, Charlie where are you?_

Don nodded to Megan and they started down the alley toward the next street, but a noise from behind them stopped Don in his tracks. He tugged Megan's arm and turned back to the street. Crouching low and staying in the shadows, he headed back the way they had come. Peering into the road, he could make the profile of a tall figure scanning the street. Don stepped back. Even in the poor light, he recognized the man from his picture. It was Ramón Sandoval. He was looking for something. _Someone. He's looking for Charlie. _

The gun in his hand announced his intentions. Don resisted the urge to charge out of the alley and open fire on this monster, which fifteen minutes ago he had held responsible for the death of his little brother. _He'll still kill him. If he finds him. Yes, but running out there now could get you and Megan both killed. He has the advantage. Don't forget who you are, Eppes._

He pulled back into the alley and put his back against the wall.

"Dispatch, we've got a visual on the suspect corner of…."

He looked for street signs, finding none.

"About four blocks west of Colyer. Requesting back-up."

Megan snuck up beside Don and peered around the corner.

"He's moving."

The man had reached the end of the street and took a right, exiting into a small passageway between two buildings. Don and Megan moved crossing the street to follow.

Seconds later a gunshot rang through the air, followed by another.

Reacting instinctively, they both hit the ground to take cover.

David's voice crackled over the radio.

"Shots fired! We've got shots fired, Alpha One what is your location?"

Don started down the street at a full run. Any consideration for his own safety was quickly forgotten. If Sandoval wasn't shooting at David and Colby, that only left one other person.

"Megan, he's not shooting at us!"

Without responding to David's call, Megan bolted after him and Don rounded the corner into the narrow passageway just a few steps ahead of her.

………………………………

Charlie moved down the small passage. The opening between the two buildings housed several fire escapes as well as a small flight of stairs that led down, to a basement door. He picked his way down the steps and tried the knob_. Locked. Figures. _Charlie resisted the urge to sit down on the steps. _Not yet Charlie. You just can't. Need to find a phone. Need to call Don. _He warily stayed on his feet and moved back up the stairs, re-emerging into the passage. He heard a slight shuffle to his left and jerked his head around to see Ramón Sandoval. He had just rounded the corner and looked surprised to see his prey standing in the open, in an alley. And there was no where to run. The gun in his hand looked like a cannon to Charlie as its wielder lifted it and took aim.

Waiting for his life to flash before his eyes, Charlie was pleasantly disappointed. Instead of the overwhelming fear that he had expected to face moments before he died, a surge of anger filled him instead. _I've made it this far. This is not how this is supposed to end. This is not how I'm supposed to end. I still have things to do. _His feet wanted to turn and run, but his anger anchored him in place. _No. If this bastard is going to get his way, then he doesn't get to shoot me in the back. I won't go down like that. Not after all of this. _Charlie shifted on the stairs to face his would be executioner head on, his feet balanced on the top step. Without a word the man flashed Charlie a rueful expression and shrugged his shoulders. Then he re-aimed his weapon and fired two shots.

………………………………

_Authors Notes: Not quite done yet. I may need longer than usual to finish the next chapter, so hang in there! Can't wait to hear what you think…but you all know that by now! Thanks again!_

_Next Chapter: Existential Absurdity_


	18. Existential Absurdity

**Chapter Eighteen: Existential Absurdity**

Don sprinted around the corner and into the passageway. Ramón Sandoval stood about thirty feet away. His 9mm Beretta was extended in front of him aimed into the bottom of an open stairwell. Nothing stood between him and the federal agent but a few garbage cans and the partially extended ladder of a rusty fire escape. Charlie was no where in sight. Don trained his weapon on the Columbian kingpin.

"FBI. GET ON THE GROUND!"

Before the words had left his mouth, Ramón swung his pistol toward the mouth of the alley and fired two shots in Don's direction. The slugs whizzed past his head and slammed into the brick wall sending pieces of brick and mortar flying like shrapnel into the air. Don flattened himself against to wall, trying to make himself a smaller target and fired several haphazard shots in return.

Before Sandoval could fire again, Megan rounded the corner in a low shooters stance and unloaded her clip in his direction. The appearance of a second agent caught him by surprise and he shifted his weapon toward the new threat. Don took advantage of the distraction Megan provided and rushed forward, crouching low behind a garbage can and took careful aim at his target. The exchange of gunfire was almost deafening as the shots echoed through the small alleyway. Three slugs fired in quick succession from Don's .40 caliber GLOCK hit their mark and Ramón Sandoval staggered backwards and fell to the ground.

Following the sound of gunfire, David and Colby had rounded the corner at the other end of the passage at full speed just in time to see the suspect fall. The two agents approached him cautiously and David kicked the gun from his hand and out of reach.

"Dispatch? This is FBI unit Alpha two. Suspect down, code three."

Colby bent to retrieve the gun while Megan kept her weapon leveled at the wounded suspect. Don however, didn't spare the bleeding man a passing glance. He tore past the other agents and came to a stumbling halt at the top of the stairwell.

……………………

A familiar figure cowered at the bottom of the stairs next to the basement door. Barely visible through a collection of dark curls, two apprehensive brown eyes were staring, unfocused in his direction.

"Charlie…. Oh, God."

Don descended the steps in a rush, sliding to his knees next to his brother. He started with the back of Charlie's head and then moved on to his shoulders, running his hands over him systematically checking for any signs of a gunshot wound.

"Where are you hit? Charlie? Are you hit?"

When Charlie didn't respond, Don felt his heart skip a beat. He grabbed his younger brother by the shoulders and pulled him upright.

Charlie winced in pain as two strong hands squeezed his arms and pulled him up from the pavement. He blinked several times to clear his vision. Struggling to focus his eyes on the person in front of him, he tried to remember what had happened. Had Sandoval come down to finish him off? As the alarmed features of his older brother came into focus, Charlie's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Don? What….what are you doing here?"

Don balked, almost laughing at the ludicrousness of the question.

"What the hell do you think I'm doing here?"

He let go of Charlie's shoulders and put is hands on either side of his head, looking him in the eye.

"Were you hit? Did he get you?"

Charlie looked confused. He pulled his head back and looked down at himself and then took in his surroundings. He lifted his eyes and gave Don a sheepish look.

"I…I, um I fell…d..d..down the stairs and I think….I think …I think maybe……he missed."

He sounded skeptical of his own statement so Don started his inspection over, taking it slower and gentler. Charlie was a mess. It was hard to determine the extent of his brother's injuries. He was battered, bruised and more than likely broken in several places, but despite the amount of blood caked in his hair and on his face, there didn't seem to be any bullet holes involved.

"Just don't try to move, okay. Just be still."

Megan moved down the steps and stood behind Don.

"The ambulance is on its way."

Don looked up toward the spot where Ramón Sandoval fell and looked back at her, asking the question with his eyes. Megan shook her head.

_Good. That bastard deserved to die for this. _

Don took a deep breath, and redirected his attention to his brother.

Charlie's eyes were now fully focused on Don. He stared at him unblinking with his head tilted slightly. The initial look of surprise when he had recognized his older brother was gone and as Don watched, a wide eyed, anguished expression took its place. Charlie cringed and Don was shocked to see all the remaining color drain quickly from his brother's already pale face.

"Charlie….what? What is it? What's wrong?"

"You….you ……..Don, there's b..b..blood all over you."

Charlie looked utterly horrified as he eyed the bright red stain that had saturated Don's shirt.

"What…..Did you…….Were you….Did you get shot trying to…….? You got shot?"

Don let out a shaky laugh of relief. _Look at him, and he's worried about me?_

"Hey, Hey Buddy….it's okay. I'm okay. It's just a little………"

Don gave in to gravity and sat down next to his brother on the cool concrete. _Might as well be honest with him_. _It's not like he can't see you bleeding._

"Yeah. I got shot."

He put his hand on the back of Charlie's neck.

"But it's not bad. Really Charlie…..it's okay. You're going to be alright. It's over now….…..okay?"

Don was surprised by how much he needed to convince himself of that statement.

"It's all over and we are both going to be alright."

Charlie nodded hesitantly not daring to take his eyes off his older brother's face. Realization that this ordeal really was almost over was starting to sink in and whatever force had kept him glued together was slipping.

_Is this what it feels like to deflate?_

Don watched his younger brother's eyes fill with silent tears and despite himself; he struggled to control his own emotions. _Charlie needs you. Don't fall apart on him now. _

His voice came out strong and steady.

"You really had me worried there for a minute, kid."

Charlie managed to give his brother a weak smile as he blinked back his tears.

"_You_ were worried? I really thought...that was the end."

With that statement he felt a fresh wave of emotion threaten to pull him back under and he swallowed hard. _Pull yourself together. Come on now. _

Despite his obvious attempt to keep his voice steady, Don could hear the events of last six hours reflected plainly in his brother's words.

"I thought that it was over Don, I really did. I thought he was going to kill me and I'd never get the chance to tell you……"

Charlie shifted to readjust his arm and a new bolt of pain forced him to draw in a sharp breath.

Don didn't let him continue. He felt his own eyes filling with moisture despite his efforts to contain it. He gave his brother a piercing, yet reassuring look as their eyes locked.

"There is nothing you need to tell me, Buddy. I already know."

At the top of the stairs Don heard Megan sniffle and then cough as she tried to suppress it. He had forgotten she was standing there. Both brothers acknowledged their audience and turned to look up at her.

"Sorry guys, I was just uh…..."

She tried to be inconspicuous about wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes.

"Um, the ambulance is here."

Don gave her a slight smile and shot her a thumbs up. Looking back at Charlie the smile evolved into an involuntary grin that reached his eyes.

"Yeah, I think maybe we could both use some medical attention."

Charlie tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob.

"You look terrible, Don."

"You don't look so good yourself, Charlie."

Two EMT's appeared at the top of stairs and Megan stepped out of the way to let them by. As they descended into the stairwell, she dug her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the house in Pasadena.

"Mr. Eppes. It's Agent Reeves. Yes Sir, Don's got him."

………………………………

_FINAL CHAPTER: _**Unequivocal Resolution**


	19. Unequivocal Resolution

**Chapter Nineteen: Unequivocal Resolution**

The three men sat in silence at the dining room table. No one had spoken a word for at least five minutes.

Don leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly in an attempt to provoke a response. The sling that restrained his left arm kept him from his customary stretch of feigned exasperation, so he had to settle for an over exaggerated yawn. He eyed his father with impatience.

Alan was leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on the table, his head resting in his hands. He didn't even raise his eyes to acknowledge Don's shameless act of indifference to his dilemma.

Charlie however, was intently watching his brother's every move. The giant cast on his right arm was propped on two pillows to keep it elevated and Charlie was using it as blockade between himself and his brother. But from the way the light flashed in Charlie's eyes, Don was convinced that without the cast, he might have tried to hit him again. Instead Charlie resolved himself to simply rolling his eyes at his older brother and then staring at the ceiling as if he had just discovered that it was there.

Don stared at him with intensity and tilted his head in an unspoken challenge trying to incite a verbal reaction, but Charlie wouldn't tear his gaze away from a newly discovered spot on the ceiling. Don resisted the urge to slam his fist on the table and instead continued with his intimidating glare until Charlie lowered his eyes and dared to look straight at him.

Alan looked up just in time to catch Don in the middle of an expressive hand gesture.

"DONALD ALAN EPPES!"

Both of his sons swung their heads in his direction.

"I just stop to think for one minute and you two are over there trying to goad each other into an out and out skirmish?

APOLOGIZE!"

Charlie started in disbelief at his father.

"What?"

Don leaned over the table and gave him a revolting glare.

"You've got to be kidding me?"

"There is just no way!" Charlie leaned back in his chair gave his father a disgusted look.

Alan leaned across the table looking harshly at his two sons.

"I'm serious. See. A. P. O. L. O. G. I. Z. E. Apologize."

"BUT DAD! That's a triple word score. There is no way we can catch up now!"

Alan leaned back in chair and crossed his arms.

"Don't be a sore loser, Charlie."

Don tried to keep a straight face, but failed miserably.

"He's not, he's just poor speller."

"Hey! I had a few good words."

"What's the score, Charlie? You're good at that."

"Dad's ahead by one hundred eighty two."

Alan shook his head.

"I'm ahead by more than that."

"No, your total is twenty one with a double letter for the Z and a triple word. That gives you ninety three points for apologize."

Don started picking up his tiles.

"Okay, I've had enough."

Charlie gave his brother a convincing smile.

"Hey. Why don't you just stay, Don? We were just going to order take out, maybe watch a movie?"

Alan nodded in agreement.

"That's an excellent idea, Charlie. I thought I might pick up Chinese. It seems our favorite place doesn't deliver anymore."

Don pulled himself to his feet.

"You sit down, Dad. I'll go get it."

His suggestion drew a blank stare from his father.

"What? I can drive with one hand."

Alan shook his head at his oldest son.

"You don't need to be driving right now, Donnie. You boys just stay here. I'll let you get this game picked up….between your two good arms, I think you can manage that."

Alan left the room and they could hear his keys rattle.

"Be right back."

Don's eyes followed his father out the door.

"He's taken all of this so well. Is this the first time he's let you out of his sight?"

Charlie nodded in affirmation.

"But he's just glad to have us both home. And I think it might have helped a little that you didn't share every single detail with him."

Don gave him a fleeting glance.

"I just thought there were some things he was better off not knowing, Charlie. He was upset enough without….knowing all of that."

"Yeah, but he's not exactly slow on the uptake and he can see…..."

Don hit the table with his open hand. The sudden movement and unexpected noise startled Charlie and he jerked back away from the table and looked anxiously at his brother.

"Charlie, he has no idea how close this was and he doesn't need to know. I had to deal with you being dead. For God's sake, he doesn't need to know that for fifteen minutes I thought you were dead. Do you have any idea what that would do to him? What that did to me?"

The underlying emotion in Don's words sent goose bumps over Charlie's arms. He braced himself for Don to continue in an angry tirade, but instead, the older Eppes lowered his voice and shook his head.

"Dad's not the only one handling things better than I expected. I really would have thought almost dying twice in one week would have been more than you could handle. Hell, Charlie…it was more than I could handle….."

"Don…I….."

He interrupted Charlie's incursion into his train of thought.

"I'm not done yet. Okay? Let me finish."

He let out a short laugh.

"I've finally got you alone and there is something I need to say…so I might as well say it now."

Charlie nodded hesitantly at him.

Sitting in his brother's dining room and spilling his guts wasn't quite what Don had planned for this evening, but once he started his impromptu declaration of fear and uncertainty, he found himself unable to contain it. The words spilled out of him as he let go of everything he had intended to hold back.

"I just….I just needed for you to know, Charlie. In those minutes…when I heard that gunshot…..I died too. I need you to know that. Okay? I died too. And if you had been in that room…. or if things had…..gone the other way…."

Don let out another burst of incredulous laughter.

"If that asshole had been a better shot. Or if you hadn't fallen down the stairs. Damn, Charlie. If it had happened…..if you had been dead……"

He shook his head in denial of the possible scenario.

"….There is no me, anymore, without you. I could never have lived with losing you like that."

The verbalization of Don's feelings seemed to suck all of the air out of the room and Charlie found it hard to breathe. He stood frozen at the end of the table staring in astonishment. He watched as his older brother blinked and a single tear ran down his cheek. He had never seen Don cry. Even when their mother died, his brother had never so much as let Charlie see his eyes water.

Don tilted his head. He could see the perplexity written plainly across Charlie's face and he couldn't help but smile. He had caught him off guard and he knew it. Don reached up and wiped the tear away with the back of his hand.

"Anyway, Buddy. I just needed you to know that."

He paused.

"Well, actually, the department shrink said I needed you to know that and I agreed with her."

Don's attempt at humor didn't seem to get through to Charlie and his expression remained unchanged.

"I've got it all hanging out here man…say something. Charlie?"

Finally the expression of astonishment melted as everything sunk in.

"Tell her thanks. I think maybe I needed to hear it."

Charlie slid back into his chair and gazed at his brother through the tears that had clouded his vision.

"Don, I never got a chance to tell you how sorry….."

Don interrupted him.

"And I told you. I already know."

Don grabbed the bag of unused game tiles, clearing his throat. He shook his shoulders as if he were physically trying to slough off any remaining sentiment and started picking pieces up off the board.

"We'd better get this put up before Dad gets back."

Charlie stood, reaching over the game board to pick up his father's tiles for the word 'apologize'.

"Well, here. If you won't let me say it, at least let me give you these."

Charlie tried to bury a smile and look sincere as he handed him the letters. He fought off the overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around his big brother. _One step at a time Charlie, he may not be ready for that one yet. _

As he moved to walk around the table, he was caught off guard when Don wrapped his right arm around his shoulders and pulled him close to his chest, being careful not to jar the cast on his arm.

Returning the hug Charlie let a smile spread across his face.

"You made a joke once about us not being a hugging family. When did that change?"

He felt Don laugh.

"I figured with everything else, now was as good a time as any to start."

After a brief moment, his brother released his shoulders and Charlie stepped back.

Don opened his hand and looked at the letters Charlie had put there.

Charlie held back a laugh as he watched Don's face.

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist a bad pun."

Don shook off his moment of contemplation.

"No, it was a good pun."

Still unable to brush off the need to verbalize his apology, Charlie expression turned solemn again.

"I made a mistake, Don."

Don ran his hand through his hair and fixed his eyes on his brother.

"Yeah, I know. I made a mistake too, Charlie. I underestimated you."

Charlie watched Don's expression change into a wide smile that covered his whole face.

"Yeah, I _really _underestimated you. I never should have taught you the right way to throw a punch. I figured if you ever used it, it wouldn't be on me."

Charlie frowned at him.

"I'm being serious Don."

He hoped the earnest look on his face would speak for itself.  
"So am I. That was a good solid right hook."

Charlie's somber face broke into a grin.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just try not to do it again."

With a laugh, Charlie tossed a handful of game tiles into the box.

"Somehow I don't think that will be a problem."

THE END

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_AUTHORS FINAL NOTE: Thank you all for joining me on this grand adventure. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it._

_I beseech you all one last time to leave me one more comment. I'd love your impression of the final chapter and if you'd like to comment on the story in its entirety, that would also be much appreciated!_

_Thanks for sticking with me thru my first Fan Fic!_

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**Authors Final, Final, Final Note: I tried to leave many of my original comments in place. If you did not leave a comment/feedback the first time around, I would still very much love to hear from you.**

**Thank you all for reading!**


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